
Glass " Dfl*7fcfe 

Book. ■ u 3 ■< _ 



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THE 



PEDESTRIAN 



THE 

PEDESTRIAN: 

A SUMMER'S RAMBLE IN THE TYROL, 

AND SOME OF THE ADJACENT PROVINCES. 
MDCCCXXX. 

BY CHARLES JOSEPH LATROBE, 

AUTHOR OF 'THE ALPENSTOCK; OR SKETCHES OF 
SWISS SCENERY AND MANNERS.' 




Page 53. 



PUBLISHED BY R. B. SEELEY AND W. BURNSIDE 

AND SOLD BY L. B. SEELEY AND SONS, 

FLEET STREET, LONDON. 

MDCCCXXXU. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 

The frequent recurrence of certain German affixes to 
proper names in the course of the following pages, 
may, perhaps, demand that they should be explained 
at the outset. They could not have been continually 
exchanged for the corresponding English terms, with- 
out circumlocution ; and after the reader has once 
made himself familiar with the following summary 
vocabulary, it is hoped that no obscurity will result 
from their having been retained. 



Bach — a brook. 
Be r g — m ou ntain . 
Brucke — abridge. 
Burg — castle. 
Buhel — a knoll. 
Dorf — village. 
Gau — district. 
Hohle — cavern. 
Joch — a mountain ridge. 



Kopf, Kofel, Spitz — head, or 
summit of a mountain. 

Loch — cavern, deep glen, 01 
cavity in the mountains. 

Stein or fels — rock. 

Thal — valley. 

Wald — forest. 

Wand — wall, or precipice. 



For such as are not familiar with the German language, the 
writer takes the liberty of adding some general directions 
for the pronunciation of the proper names : 

The pronunciation of the vowel a, is like a in father and 
man : e, like e in there and met : i, like ee in seen, and i in 
wit: o, like o in rode and for: u, like u in flute (or oo in 
moon) andu input: y, like i. Au is sounded like ow in fowl : 
ai and ei, nearly like i in mine : ie, like ie in mien : ae or d, 
like a inflate: ou, like oo: eu, oe or o, and ue or u, are pecu- 
liar sounds, corresponding nearly to the y in why, and to the 
French oeu in coeur, and u inune. The letter^' is pronounced 
like y: ch is a guttural, except at the commencement of a 
word : th is pronounced like t : and z like tz. 



The Vignette on the Title-Page, engraved by S. Williams, after a 
correct sketch, represents the Martins -loch, on the Martins- wand. 
(See page 52.) 

Of the accompanying Map little need be said ; though the scale is 
small, it is sufficiently correct, to allow the reader to follow the traveller 
in the greater part of the routes described. 



' '■■■ j 



k w 



CONTENTS. 

Chapter I. — The Simmenthal. The Brunig. Gersau. 
The Bragel. Wallenstatt. Balzers. Coire. Lenz. Tinzen. 
The Julier. Silva Plana. The Upper Engadine. Zemetz. 
The Lower Engadine. Guarda. Remus. The Martins - 
briick. Nauders. Page 1. 

Chapter II. — Geographical position and ancient history 
of Tyrol. Pass of the Finstermiinz. Pruz. Landeck. 
The Upper Innthal. Heimingen. Zirl. Costumes. The 
Martins-hbhle. Calvario. Castle of Fragenstein. Zambs. 
Wiltau. Inspruck. The Lower Innthal. Kolsass. Schwatz. 
Rattenberg. Kufstein. The Zillerthal. Rinn. Joseph 
Speckbacher. Sketch of the war in Tyrol, from April 
till the middle of May, 1809. Hall. Inspruck. Page 36. 

Chapter III. — The Iselberg. War in Tyrol, from 
middle of May 1809, till the close of the month. The 
Brenner. Sterzing. Vale of the Eisack. Mittenwald. 
Ober-au. Unter-au. Sketch of the war in the Tyrol, 1809, 
from Jane till the middle of August. Miihlbach. The 
Pusterthal. St. Lorenzen. Brunecken. Antholz. St. 
Jacobs. Teferecken. The Islthal. Lienz. The Vale of 
the Drave. Tbblach. Sillian. Miihlbach. Brixen. 
Clausen. Colman. Botzen. Page 90. 

Chapter IV. — The Vale of the Adige. Brandzoll. 
Neumarkt. Sal urn. St. Michael. Lavis. Trent. Pergine. 
Levico. Borgo Val Sugana. Vale of the Brenta. Primo- 
lano. Bassano. Cittadella. Padua. Page 132. 



IV CONTENTS. 

Chapter V.— Padua. Monselice. The Euganean hills. 
Arqua. Venice. A morning in Venice. Trieste. Cornial. 
Ancona. Rome. Page 156 

Chapter VI. — Rome. Albano. Monte Cavo. The 
Campagna. Foligno. Nocera. Fabriano. St. Quirieo. 
Jesi. Sinigaglia. The Adriatic. Trieste. Page 203 

Chapter VII. — Optschina. Duino. Gradiska. Udine. 
Gemona. Tolmezzo. Paluzza. Monte Croce. The Gail- 
thai. Oberdrauburg. Lienz. The Molthal. Heiligen- 
blut. The Great Glockner. St. Ruperti. Windish- 
Mattray. The Tefereckenthal. Hopfgarten. St. Jacob's. 

Page 237 

Chapter VIII. — Antholz. Brunecken. St, Lorenzen. 
Concluding Sketch of the War in the Tyrol 1809. Gaderthal. 
Dolomite ridges of S.E. Tyrol. The Grednerthal. Botzen. 
Meran. The Passeyrthal. St. Leonhards. Hofer's Cot- 
tage. Narrative of his capture and death. The Vintsch- 
gau. Schlanders. Prad. Narrative of the adventures and 
escape of Joachim Haspinger, and Joseph Speckbacher. 
The Monte Stelvio or Stilfser-joch. Page 276 

Chapter IX.— The Monte Brauglio. St. Maria. Ful- 
dera. Pass of the BufTalora. Zernetz. Upper Engadine. 
Pont. Pass of the Albula. Lenz. Coire. Ilanz. The 
Vale of the Vorder-Rhine. Truns. The Grey League. 
Abbey of Dissentis. The Tavantscherthal. Selva. Pass 
of the Ober-alp. Val d' Urseren. The Pass of the Susten. 
The Gadmenthal. Meyringen. Erlenbach. Page 321 

Conclusion. Page 348 



THE PEDESTRIAN. 



INTRODUCTION. 



* Not that, which men do covet most, is best, 
Nor that thing worst, which men do most refuse : 
But fittest is, that all contented rest 
With that they hold: each hath his fortune in his breast. 
****** 

It is the mind, that maketh good or ill, 
That maketh wretch or happy, rich or poor : 
For one, that hath abundance at his will, 
Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store ; 
The other, that hath little, asks no more, 
But in that little is both rich and wise. 
For wisdom is most riches ; fools therefore 
They are that fortunes do by vows devise, 
Sith each unto himself his life may fortunize.' 



Time presses forward with the speed and rush of the 
wind. When the writer of the following; pages, in 
the autumn of 1829, stood on the southern slope of the 
Jura, in full view of the snowy Alps of Switzerland, 
after an absence of three summers, he found it difficult 
to conceive that so large an interval of time had inter- 
posed since they last rose before him. And, perhaps, 
few have been favoured to re-enter the scenes of former 
enjoyment after an equal interval has elapsed, with so 
little cause of regret, 

B 



2 INTRODUCTION, 

In my favorite haunts, the face of external nature 
had suffered no change, but that produced by successive 
seasons. Death had spared the circle of which I had 
formerly been a member ; and fe w and unimportant 
were the changes effected in the state of those objects, 
which, trivial in themselves, yet influence the mind by 
their accidental relation to some points of real interest. 

To such of my readers who may have perused the 
pages of a former volume of wanderings, it will not 
be deemed singular that I resumed the same winter- 
quarters as formerly ; and took advantage of the re- 
maining days of autumn to revisit the neighbouring 
Canton of Berne, and the scene of so much healthy 
enjoyment in the Simmenthal. 

To them it may be interesting to hear that the 
parsonage and its inhabitants had in the interval held 
the ' noiseless tenor of their way,' experiencing, in 
the cool shade of their sequestered valley, that content 
and peace which are of such difficult attainment in 
the more crowded haunts of busy man. As in 
former days, the bells of the grazing cattle chimed 
the live-long day from the green pastures ; and 
the sounds of rural toil mingled with the rush of the 
Wildebach. The winter torrents had spared the 
depth of the valley ; and the smooth sides of the 
mountains bore no marks of those fearful catastrophes 
which had shortly before ravaged other portions of the 
Alps. My old quadruped acquaintance, Stumah, had 
grown fat, and correspondingly stupid — cowardly too 
beyond all endurance. David, the schoolmaster, 
had at length changed his state. After having 
been, as elsewhere recorded, most unfairly jilted 



INTRODUCTION. 3 

by Rosiekjiteli, it seems that he remained for some 
months in a state of physical stupor and mental bewil- 
derment. This however, after exhausting the patience 
of all his neighbours, at length blew over ; his courage 
returned, and he offered his pledge of faith to a Susie, 
who proved propitious to his great content; and I 
found they had been some time married. Since 
wedlock, he has been sadly perplexed in the choice of 
the two professions which appeared open to him, viz. 
school-keeping and shop-keeping. His doubt however 
ended in his deciding in favour of the latter, and he 
now doles out tobacco and snuff to the parents, instead 
of dispensing knocks and knowledge to the children. 

As to the town of Neuchatel, rapid improvements 
in the erection of new buildings, and the destruction 
of the low arcades in the main streets had produced a 
change. The new Gymnasium, a handsome and spacious 
edifice, was fast rising upon a spot, which but eight 
years before had been covered by the waves of the 
lake. 

The winter of 1829-30 will long be remembered for 
its extraordinary severity throughout the continent. 
It is upon record that the lake of Neuchatel was 
frozen completely in the years 1420, 1515, 1573, and 
1695 : but from this last epoch, never completely till 
the present winter. 

From the middle of December when the frosts set 
in, till the first week in February when they gained 
their greatest intensity, the thermometer varied on the 
shore of the lake, from 13° of Fahrenheit to zero, 
and in the mountains above, fell to 20° and 28° below 

B 2 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

zero. After being partially covered several times in 
the interval, but as often cleared by the east wind, to 
which its surface is much exposed, the lake was seen 
to freeze completely during the first days of February, 
and was subsequently crossed in many directions by 
the adventurous youth of the neighbouring country. 
The sheet of ice before the town bore all the appear- 
ance of a fair. The thermometer on the evening of the 
7th was still 12 degrees below the freezing point, and 
in the course of the night, rose by a wonderful change 
in the atmosphere to 18° above. The thaw commenced 
with unexampled activity, and continued for the four 
following days, when the Bize rose and completed the 
destruction of the ice on the greater part of the lake. 

The whole of the lake of Bienne, sheltered as it was 
by the Jura, had, during this whole period, remained 
solidly frozen, and was traversed by carts and sledges 
in every direction. The Isle of St. Pierre was crowded 
with visitors ; as many as forty horse- sledges having 
been there at the same time. 

It never happened that I had an opportunity like 
the present, of remarking those singular sounds which 
proceed from a thick and extended field of ice, when 
either acted upon by the wind, or by a sudden change 
of atmosphere. To describe these would be no easy 
matter. They are various in their character, and for 
the greater part impress upon the mind during the 
dim twilight a degree of solemnity and awe, the causes 
of which it would be difficult to unravel. — While 
listening to them, I could readily comprehend that 
the inhabitants of the * frozen north ' should be inclined 
to the indulgence of superstitious fancy. 



INTRODUCTION. D 

In saying this, I allude not so much to those con- 
cussions more or less violent, observed when the ice 
begins to break up, either from the winds or waves 
acting upon its edges, or from that ground-swell 
which is the most powerful agent in its destruction, as 
to sounds which are produced, as I imagine, by ano- 
ther cause, which I would attempt to explain. 

After the formation of a large unbroken sheet 
of ice, like that of the Bay of St. Blaise, situated 
near the eastern end of the lake, we will suppose 
that the Bize, blowing from that quarter, rises and 
sends the mass of water gradually towards the west. 
The whole sheet of ice then sinks lower, but to not an 
exact level, as that it can hardly gain, if it be of con- 
siderable thickness and strongly dove-tailed into the 
inequalities and undulations of the shore. The outer 
edges and portions adjoining will incline and lie upon 
the water, while a considerable volume of air will 
gradually accumulate in the interior, towards the upper 
end of the sheet, and fill the cavity between the ice and 
the water. If then, the wind changes and blows strongly 
from the westward, the waves return — the edge of the 
sheet rises, and the air seeks to escape by every pos- 
sible outlet. It is at this time that the most extraor- 
dinary sounds issue from the ice. Their indistinctness, 
variety — the rapidity with which they seem to shift 
from one portion of the vast field to another, now at 
your feet, then far away in the distance — the melan- 
choly scale in which most of them run— the utter 
silence that fills up the pauses, are all calculated to 
excite the imagination ; and I can excuse the super- 
stitious heathen who trembles as they strike upon the 



6 INTRODUCTION. 

ear, and deems them the long-drawn sighs, the choaked 
utterance, and the pain-extorted syllables of the un- 
happy dead. 

Eut I have no intention of detaining my reader 
here. Severe as the winter had been, the spring came 
early, and with its usual sweets. On May-day I re- 
paired to the Simmenthal to pass a tranquil Sunday, 
before my intended resumption of my former solitary 
perigrinations and final departure from the neighbour- 
hood of friends, for the longest, and as it proved, most 
eventful ramble I had ever projected. 

In visiting the portion of the Alps stretching to the 
eastward of the Gothard, which had been the boundary- 
stone of my former researches, I had several objects 
in view. A principal one, which referred to the 
acquisition of solid information with regard to an 
epoch in the history of the interesting people inhabiting 
the Tyrolese Alps, failed, from circumstances over 
which I could exercise no controul. Others, perhaps, 
were attained. The knapsack and alp-pole, which 
had been my servants in former years, ministered 
again to my few wants and necessities. In how far 
years had changed or modified the powers and dis- 
positions of the wanderer himself will be seen from 
the following pages. They contain a faithful trans- 
cript of the ideas and impressions suggested at the 
time; and, if in general read with the same indulgence 
as was bestowed upon the former volume of similar 
sketches, may perhaps be appropriately considered as a 
companion to the Alpenstock. 



CHAPTER I 



* Then gin I think of that which nature said 
Of that same time when no more change shall be, 
But stedfast rest of all things firmly stayd 
Upon the pillours of Eternity ; 
That is contrarie to mutabilitie : 
For all that moveth doth in change delight : 
But henceforth shall all rest eternally 
With Him who is the God of Sabaoth hight : 
O that great Sabaoth's God, graunt me that Sabaoth's sight ! 



At a certain period in the history of English litera- 
ture, it may be recollected, that there was a reigning 
fashion, of ushering a fresh volume into the world 
with a prefatory address to the Reader. 

The fashion however has long gone by, perhaps more 
because the form had become mere fashion, than for any 
other reason ; and the present age has brought to light 
a crowd of authors, who study to make their entry into 
the world of letters with an appearance of utter non- 
chalance and indifference to the fate that may await 
them, or the verdict which the public may pass upon 
their productions. Now, though I have certainly 
nothing against these unceremonious gentlemen, and 
believe that their manner of proceeding may be per- 
fectly suited to the tasce of the times, yet, I avow, 
that I never take an old volume in hand, commencing 
with a few pages addressed directly to me, as * Kind 



8 ERLENBACH. 

and Courteous Reader/ without feeling that my 
good will is at once bespoken for the author, if not 
for his book. 

I must announce myself to be a lone man, and 
entering upon the relation of a solitary journey. 
When an individual must speak to and of himself, 
as much as loneliness, and the want of companionship 
oblige me to do, he must have a prodigious share of 
self-complacency, if he does not now and then feel 
ennui, and conceive the wish that some fortuitous cir- 
cumstance might procure for him a change of society. To 
satisfy this feeling in some measure, I desire to follow 
the example of my predecessors of old, and make a 
friend of my Reader ; craving permission at the out- 
set, to address him from time to time as my com- 
panion. I will do my utmost not to abuse his courtesy. 
It is something to be able to imagine yourself in good 
and choice society; that you have a companion with 
whom you may converse, and whom you may make 
a sharer of the thought and feeling of the moment, — 
even though the next may dispel the illusion, restore 
your solitude, and make you doubly feel that your 
visitant is but a shadow of the imagination. 

How often or how seldom the occasion may occur, 
when I may chance to invoke and address my com- 
panion, time and circumstance will determine. In 
the mean time, I turn to the commencement of my 
pilgrimage. 

To the events and scenes of the first week, namely, 
from May 3rd, when I quitted Erlenbach in the Sim- 
menthal, to my arrival at Coire, the capital of the 



THE BRUNIG. V 

Grisons, I do not deem it necessary to solicit much 
attention. My route was precisely that described in 
the autumn of 1826. 

To the spirits of those who look around for good or 
bad omens at the out-set, a glorious sunrise cannot 
fail to bring comfort and good assurance ; and with 
such was I favoured, when, issuing from the gorge 
of the Simmen near Wimniis, I bent my steps toward 
the town of Thun. 

I do not envy the man who can breathe the per- 
fumed air of a May-morning, and gaze upon the bright 
face of renewed nature without emotion. I am no 
longer a boy, but, at such moments seldom fail to 
find my spirit imbued with the feelings of one ; and 
fresh, cheering, and delicious they are. 

The passage of the lakes of Thun and Brienz occu- 
pied the first day. I quitted the village of Brienz at 
an early hour on the following morning, and proceeded 
towards the Briinig, over a pathway, strewed with the 
catkins of the wallnut, and the white petals of the 
cherry and plum. The view from the ridge between 
the two cantons of Berne and Unterwalden has been 
elsewhere sketched ; it is exquisitely beautiful. The 
weather was, like the preceding day, clear and hot ; 
and a small cloud of white vapour hovering over 
the peaks of the Pilatus, gave me certain intelligence 
that Pontius, according to the common tradition, was 
busy cooking something or other : but, whether the pot 
of brewis which he keeps to himself, or the cauldron 
of thunder which he so often dispenses to the neigh- 
bouring districts, it was impossible to decide. 



10 BALZERS. 

Noon found me at Sarnen ; and evening, snugly 
sheltered in the sequestered village of Gersau on the 
further shore of the lake of the Forest- Cantons. 

Thence I proceeded through the Muottathal, and 
over the Bragel. The quantity of snow still lying 
on the higher ridges of this mountain took me by 
surprize, as in consequence of the uncommon heat of 
the season, I had not calculated upon meeting with 
such an obstacle. It cost me, however, a couple of 
hours' extra exertion ; and by the time I had got 
fairly over the main ridge, and was in full descent 
towards the canton of Glaris, the evening began to 
decline. While the last glimmer of departed day 
was lingering on the huge square masses of the 
Glarnish, I entered a small mountain cabaret, situated 
about a mile above the lake in the Klonthal, and there 
found shelter and entertainment, such as it was. 

The following day brought me by way of Mollis, 
Wesen, and Wallenstatt to Sargans ; and continuing 
my route for an hour by moonlight, I reached Balzers, 
situated beyond the Rhine in the principality of Lich- 
tenstein. 

Various circumstances had combined to make these 
few preparatory days' travel a school of experience 
to me. I was glad to sit down quietly for a day or 
two in my ancient quarters, to consider my plans and 
projects, and contrive to render the weight of my 
knapsack more bearable. The art of comprising among 
its contents no more than is really and absolutely 
necessary, is a lesson of much more difficult apprehen- 
sion than might be supposed. 

The Rhine had not been idle during the three years 



BALZERS. 11 

of my absence. The gradual rise of its bed, and 
consequent spread of its waters over a very wide track 
of country, which otherwise would be well calculated 
for the purposes of agriculture, has at length attracted 
the attention of both the Austrian authorities in 
Lichtenstein, and the government of the neighbouring 
cantons ; and a scheme has been drawn up, of cutting 
a new channel for this unruly river, from the Zollbriick 
to the lake of Constance. But such an enterprise 
will scarcely be put in execution ; for the countries inter- 
ested possess neither the requisite energy nor capital. 
Even in such parts of the plain as lie sufficiently high 
or distant from the present course of the river, the 
draining is but indifferently maintained, the few ditches 
which exist being choaked with reeds and frogs. 

And now, gentle reader, the moment strikes me as 
auspicious for the commencement of our better ac- 
quaintance, and I would not let it pass by unimproved. 
I will, for the moment, believe that you are of the 
male sex, a lover of strange sights, and given to 
wander abroad among the bright and curious scenes 
of nature like myself. That moreover you permit me 
to assume the ability of giving a useful hint upon such 
subjects as experience, my sole master, has rendered 
familiar to me. Much that I have learned may 
be deemed inapplicable to wanderings in a region 
widely differing in its character from that in which we 
now are ; but something may surely be found of gen- 
eral application. If even many of my observations 
be of no great utility to yourself, who knows but 
they may be useful to your children after you, espe- 
cially if, as is not unlikely considering the humour of 



12 BALZERS. 

the age, you should be blessed with a son who prefers 
a rambling to a sedentary life. To be still more 
explicit, I should desire, from time to time, to take 
advantage of any chance word or idea, or perhaps 
of an accidental pause in the regular course of the 
relation into which I have entered, and note down for 
your instruction and amusement such stray pieces of 
information, as, supposing you to be starting upon a 
long and solitary pilgrimage, may be deemed applicable 
to your situation as well as my own. I may be some- 
times abrupt, sometimes a little capricious in my mode 
of instruction ; but that you will pardon. To the more 
sober topics connected with this subject I will return 
on the first convenient occasion, and in the mean time 
explain why I started off from my relation with so 
little apparent reason. 

I am a great and ardent admirer of the works of 
God, in all of which, from the stars of heaven to the 
midge sporting in the sun-beam, I find abundant food 
for thought, whenever I raise my mind to the earnest 
contemplation of them. 

Thus, while either seeking to divert my thoughts 
from passing subjects of annoyance incidental to my 
mode of travelling, or sitting down for the sake of 
repose, I court the instruction and entertainment 
derivable from the fixed contemplation of any ob- 
ject that presents itself most readily to my notice : 
and it is a habit that I would, with all modesty, 
deem worthy of imitation. Perchance, while rest- 
ing by the road-side, I take into my hand the first 
flower or insect that comes in my way, examine the 
structure of the one, or the form and habits of the 



BALZERS. 13 

other, with earnest and fixed attention. And how 
many times have I risen from that silent contempla- 
tion, with a mind utterly weaned from the heavi- 
ness occasioned by ruminating over the existence 
of some petty sorrow — entirely engrossed with the 
wonders thus unveiled to me, and a heart filled 
with adoration of the greatness and goodness of that 
God, who is the Maker and Sustainer of all things. 
Examined in this temper of mind, I have seldom held 
a flower in my hand, which I did not think curious and 
beautiful enough to have bloomed in paradise ; and 
never returned the insect or reptile to its bed of 
leaves, without a feeling that the link that binds me to 
every living thing had become strengthened, and my 
sympathy towards the subject of my investigation 
excited and increased. 

During my twilight walk from Sargans to Balzers, 
what between the refreshing cool of the evening, and 
the sight of the full round moon rising over the peaks 
of the Falknis, I quite forgot the fret which I had 
allowed to take possession of me, in consequence of 
the preceding walk of four leagues in burning heat, 
and under the galling weight of an unaccustomed 
burden. Another cause of distraction arose, from an 
animal, or reptile, if you will, which seems to be 
despised beyond all measure by the English, partly, 
doubtless, for no other reason, but that it has the 
misfortune to be palatable to the French. 

I have already said that the marshes were full of 
frogs. That ancient and eccentric pedestrian, Mr. 
Thomas Coryat, was struck with equal astonishment 
with myself, at their incredible number in the alpine 



14 BALZERS. 

vallies. ' I noted,' says he in his Crudities, ' marvellous 
abundance of little hip-frogges in that part of the 
valley Telina where I travelled : I never saw the 
hundredth part of them in so short a space/ But it 
was not their numbers, so much as their loquaciousness 
that drew my attention. 

They seem, about twilight, to have the same kind 
of inclination as the nobler order of which I have the 
honour of being a member, to assemble together in 
select coteries ; perhaps to croak scandal, discuss frog 
politics, make music, or for other purposes equally 
instructive and important no doubt, but sometimes 
difficult to be surmised. They seemed to be all con- 
vened upon the surface, from the veteran who had 
croaked till he was hoarse, and whose toes had become 
quite pale with age and paddling about in the water, 
through all the gradations, to the small fry which 
had hardly yet contrived to grind off the stumps of 
their tails among the pebbles, and do away with that 
unwelcome witness of recent emancipation from the 
tadpole state. 

There was one society in particular, to which I gave 
especial attention. I took great pains to comprehend 
their motive for assembling in a small marshy pool 
close to the road side, and keeping up such a dis- 
cordant hubbub ; but like the astronomer in the fable, 
whose elevated eyes and thoughts were the means of 
his legs being beguiled into the horse-pond, I had 
nearly been punished for my abstraction; and as I 
have just recommended the cultivation of that quality 
in my reader, it is but right to add, that there are 
dangers attending it. 



COIRE. 15 

I had been slily overlooking their operations for 
some time, when, fortunately perhaps for the harmony 
of the meeting, though unfortunately for me, the rail 
upon which I was leaning partially gave way, and 
the stumble and plunge which I consequently made 
when unceremoniously precipitated into the midst of 
the assembly, caused a sudden and simultaneous 
adjournment ; and so alarmed did they seem at what 
perhaps appeared to them to be a second descent of 
King Log into their midst, that not a croak could I 
hear from their pool, as long as I remained within 
moderate ear-shot. 

About four o'clock in the afternoon of May 8th, the 
heat of the day being well nigh spent, I quitted Bal- 
zers, and keeping steadily to my object, reached the 
town of Coire, six leagues distant, soon after eight in 
the evening. The whole of this line of route, by the 
Luciensteig and Mayenfeld, abounds in fine displays 
of distant mountain scenery. The Falknis continues 
to bear an imposing appearance to the North East ; the 
mountains of the Prettigau tower over the Rhine valley 
to the East, and soon after passing Zollbriick, the 
Galanda rises in sight. The town of Coire does not 
make its appearance till the moment you are close to 
its gates. It is placed in an angle of the mountains at 
the junction of the Schalfikerthal with the Rhine 
valley. The summits around it rise mostly to the 
height of 7000 or 8000 feet and upwards. 1 



1 The Galanda 8253 feet. The Scesa Plana, in the chain of the 
Falknis, 9207 feet. 



16 TINZEN. 

Coire is a singular old town, and contains many 
objects worthy of notice, in a morning's ramble, but I 
am incapable of giving a detailed account of them, as my 
glance was unusually hurried. A change of weather, 
which had been predicted, came not, and I was spurred 
forward by the hope of getting safe across the Julier 
into the Engadine, before it should take place. This 
was a matter of the utmost consequence to me. I 
accordingly secured the letters awaiting my arrival here 
at an early hour of the day following, and prepared 
to cross the mountains towards the valley of Oberhalb- 
stein, leading towards the Julier-pass. A walk of four 
leagues over a singular line of country, and the passage 
of a ridge about 5000 feet high, brought me to the 
village of Lenz early in the afternoon. The character 
of this passage is wild, though numerous villages di- 
versify the route. The principal are Churwalden and 
Parpan. The church- architecture in particular begins 
to savour of Italy. This is principally the case in the 
valley of Oberhalbstein, through which I proceeded, in 
the course of the afternoon, to my night quarters at 
Tinzen. All the villages have one or more churches 
of very decent Grecian architecture, with high towers 
or steeples. That of the village of Tiefenkasten, 
situated as the name bespeaks, in a profound hollow, 
is a fine subject for the pencil. Savognin, another 
village nearer Tinzen, has no fewer than three 
churches ; two with towers and steeples, and one with 
tower and cupola. These vallies are Roman Catholic, 
while those near Churwalden are reformed. 

From Tinzen I had before me a walk of six leagues 
over the Julier to Silva Plana in the Engadine, but 



TINZEN. 17 

was greatly disappointed in my expectation of making 
good the passage before noon on May \0th. as all 
objects appeared in the morning buried under fresh- 
fallen snow. 

Here was I then, shut up in one of the bleakest 
corners of the habitable world. However, I had 
sufficient employment for the leisure thus unexpect- 
edly afforded. My pen claimed attention ; I under- 
took to re-string and re-tune an old spinet belong- 
ing to the people of the house ; and there was a large 
organ in the church hard by. The latter was far from 
being a despicable instrument. It had many good 
stops ; but especially a trombone in the great pedal, in 
chanting the praise of which the village organist 
was quite enthusiastic. He perhaps thought it 
might be heard in purgatory should the wind set that 
way. My quarters, though in the house of the prin- 
cipal magistrate of the village, were but homely. I 
was terribly plagued during the night by the mice run- 
ning about, and working among the loose straw which, 
stuffed into a coarse canvas bag, served me for a 
mattress. I could even feel them at times ferreting 
away under my pillow. 

P. M. The snow continued to descend without 
intermission. I had written my letters, tuned the 
spinet, played upon the organ till my feet, fingers, 
and ideas were frozen, and had considerable difficulty 
at times to repress a rising spirit of discontent, as there 
seemed no pause in the storm, and no hope of speedy 
liberation from my state of thraldom. All around me, 
Landvogt Doesch, and his wife, son, and neighbours, 
were croaking prophets, and seemed to exult in the idea 

c 



18 TINZEN. 

that I must remain their captive for days to come. 
But, before I retired to rest, I made up my mind to 
attempt at all risks, to get forward the following day 
to Stalla the highest village on this side the Julier. 
There, it is true, I might be equally weather-bound, 
but in a position to profit by the very first chance of 
crossing the mountain. At night I got a cat into my 
chamber to keep the mice quiet, which she did, I am 
glad to say, pretty effectually. 

May Wth. There is a certain love of mischief inhe- 
rent in human nature ; and I am convinced that the 
French philosopher was in the right, when he laid down 
the axiom, that there is generally something in ,the 
misfortunes of others, let them be who they may, that 
is not altogether disagreeable. So I take it for granted, 
that I shall elicit little unmitigated sorrow at the mis- 
haps which may befal me. 

The snow-storm ceased during the night, and the 
morning proving brighter than could have been anti- 
cipated, I quitted Tinzen as intended, to essay if I 
could not ascend the valley, and reach Stalla. The 
snow was deep, and scarcely sufficiently tracked 
by one or two peasants who had preceded me, to enable 
me to choose a certain path up a ravine, at all times 
devious and stony. After passing through a pine forest, 
the openings of which commanded a view of the 
singular vale in which Tinzen lies, I gained the hamlet 
of Rofna, situated at the northern end of a small level 
plain, quite hemmed in by the mountains. Of the 
forms and dimensions of the latter, some idea might be 
formed, as the clouds were at this moment sufficiently 
light and shifting. Here I was betrayed into the choice 



STALLA. 19 

of a foot-path, or at least of a track which seemed to 
indicate one, and following it through deep snow to the 
further extremity of the plain, reached a steep and 
narrow glen. I toiled upwards with many a slip and a 
slide from the faithless footing, and many a thump from 
the masses of snow which fell from the pines among 
which I was obliged to climb. The ridge I found occu- 
pied by a number of chalets, which I passed, and 
sliding down a long declivity of untracked snow, once 
more hit upon the proper mule-road. This led me 
through a maze of immense fragments of slate-rock 
to the village of Miihien, — the clouds in the rear 
gradually thickening and enveloping the Tinzerspitz 
and his neighbours with that peculiar haze, which 
every practised eye understands to be a distant snow- 
storm. At this moment Stalla, and Stalla alone 
was my ultimate object. The road bordering a narrow 
ravine of great depth, now overhung the foaming tor- 
rent, as it pursued its course down the valley, and was 
commanded by the solitary tower of a ruined castle, 
half-buried in the pines. A bridge, thrown across the 
stream just below the rock on which this castle stands, 
leads the traveller to the right bank. In this manner, 
I kept toiling upwards through a most uncomfortable 
and snowy region to the village of Marmels, and still 
further to Stallvedro. A quarter of an hour after 
re-crossing the torrent at this latter place, I entered 
Stalla, which, with its two churches, cuts a singular 
figure in the midst of the high snowy summits, by 
which its little valley is surrounded. During the 
latter part of my walk, the air had cleared considerably ; 
and though I could not discover sure tokens of fixed 

c 2 



20 THE JULIER. 

fine weather, yet, as it had held [up tolerably till this 
hour, there was room to expect that it might con- 
tinue to do so, for the afternoon at least. If this were 
really the case, the very uncertainty was rather an ar- 
gument to attempt something, provided that the passage 
of the mountain was any way practicable. In short, I 
determined to proceed rather than run the chance 
of being detained for an indefinite time on the wrong 
side of the Alps. 

With this resolution in my head, I was not in a con- 
dition to spend much time in taking rest or refresh- 
ment. I took a draught of wine, secured a crust 
of bread, and proceeded. Two tracks now presen- 
ted themselves. That to the right hand, leads over 
the Septimer into the Bregaglia. Avoiding it, I fol- 
lowed the other with a light step and heart, for I felt 
assured that I should not repent my decision. The sun 
now shone out with dazzling power; but I was too 
happy in fancying that I had had precursors, and in 
following them, to care for the inconvenience, and 
therefore pressed forward. — One or two hamlets were 
passed, and it was not till the highest had been 
reached, that I found myself deceived in supposing, 
that the mountain had been passed, and the passage 
opened since the snow storm — as here all tracks what- 
soever, came to an end. However, the position and 
direction of the Julier could not well be mistaken ; and 
my first care was to regain the road, which, partly 
owing to the aforementioned footmarks, and its being 
buried deep under the fresh-fallen snow, I had forsaken 
at an early period. After floundering through two or 
three deep drifts, I succeeded, nor did I again wander 



THE JULIER. 21 

from it during the two hours of severe exertion, which 
were required to gain the summit of the ridge. Un- 
wearied attention, some experience, and perfect cool- 
ness, were necessary to effect this object. The route, 
though good in itself, was only at times distinguishable 
by the heads of the curb stones, marked among the 
innumerable fragments of rock which peeped above the 
surface, now by their regularity of distance and form, 
and again by the zig-zag lines which indicated their 
course under the snow. To give however an idea 
of the fatigue of dragging myself through the soft 
and untrodden snow, and the occasional plunge 
into the deep drifts which filled up the hollows, is 
impossible. 

Several times I was so deeply buried in the latter, 
and so forced down and jammed in by the weight of my 
knapsack, that prudence made me lie motionless, and 
wait awhile, till my strength should have become 
reinforced, and capable of being exerted with effect to 
extricate myself. At length I stood on the high- 
est ridge between two pillars attributed to Julius 
Caesar, but which can hardly have been the work of a 
Roman General commanding legions. They are com- 
posed of rough granite, about four feet high, and 
appear to have been even originally of the rudest 
construction. They are called the Julius- S'dulen — 
whence they are ascribed by some to Julius Cassar. 
Others however, derive the name from the Jul-feste 
of the Celts ; and it is supposed that they formed part 
of an altar where the ancient inhabitants held the 
festival of Jul, at the time of the winter solstice, when 
they sacrificed on the summit of the mountains in 



22 THE JULIER. 

honour of the Sun. They may however be Roman 
milestones. 

On this spot I should willingly have rested a little, 
but there had been still another change in the aspect of 
the heavens. Thick clouds began to drive forward from 
the westward, and to curtain one after another of 
the granite summits around me in a shower of sleet. 
I continued my course, and descending as swiftly 
as the snow would permit, soon made my approach to a 
region where the route being more visible, less impera- 
tive attention was necessary. Here I had full time 
to congratulate myself, and thank God for the success 
of my hazardous experiment, as I was speedily over- 
taken by a dark tempest of wind and sleet, which, 
had it come down at an earlier hour, would have 
rendered advance impossible. At this moment, how- 
ever, it only added a spur to the rapidity of my 
movements, and under its influence I soon gained the 
level of the lakes in the Engadine, and entered the 
inn at Silva-Plana. 

A very few observations remain to be recorded with 
regard to the features of the Pass of the Julier ; and 
the country by which I had taken my route to- 
wards it. 

I made many attempts during my brief stroll amongst 
the mountains of the Grisons, to define to my own 
satisfaction the difference of their character, and that 
of the other ranges more to the westward. One thing 
certainly strikes the traveller, and that is the extraor- 
dinary number of well-built villages in the higher val- 
lies. Perhaps I should add the absence of those swel- 
ling undulations on the sides of the mountains, which 



THE ENGADINE. 23 

give so great idea of the fertility of the middle regions 
in other parts of the Alps, because the pastures are 
in a measure spread out to the gaze of the inha- 
bitants of the vales. 

The mountains surrounding the Pass of the Julier 
are not striking in their outline, having generally 
roundish heads. As far as I could discover, they seem 
to be composed of compact slate, and towards the sum- 
mit of the Pass, of granite. There is a fine display 
of debris from Tinzen to Stalla. The pasturage on the 
south side seems to be very scanty, though I am in- 
formed that it is famed for its excellent quality, The 
whole is thickly strewed with granite fragments. As 
the traveller descends the last stage of the pass, he 
catches a view of one of the chain of lakes which occupy 
the head of the Engadine, but whether the first or 
second I am unable to say, as my sight was obscured 
and bewildered by the tempest. 1 

May 12th. — I quitted my lodging at a tolerably early 
hour, and commenced my progress down the valley. 
The condition of the whole of the superior portion 
of the vale covered with a thick carpet of snow, pre- 
vented my following up the various excursions I had 
originally in view. The more open portion of the Upper 
Engadine commences below St. Moritz. Of the Maloya 
which forms the barrier at the head of the valley, I 
could distinguish nothing, — neither of the flanks of 
the two chains, between which it is formed. The 
northern consists of the various ridges of the Julier, 
Albula, Scaletta, Fluela, and Selvretta ; and the south- 

1 Village of Stalla, 5630 feet. Ridge of the Julier, 6830 feet. Silva- 
Plana, 5560 feet. 



24 THE ENGADINE. 

ern of the Bernina. It may be said that this remarkable 
vale, nearly sixty miles in length, elevated between 
5500 and 3840 feet above the sea presents a spectacle 
of greater opulence than any other in the Alps, or pro- 
bably any other region in Europe of like elevation. The 
natural productions are as meagre and as few in num- 
ber as elsewhere at this height, where nine months 
winter and three months' mountain-summer, is the lot 
of the inhabitants. Yet here, and principally in the 
Upper- Engadine, at the height of 4000 feet above the 
sea, the traveller meets with numerous villages display- 
ing a degree of luxury in their architecture, and interior 
and exterior arrangements, which appears singular, 
when contrasted with the forbidding features of the 
savage landscape in which they are placed. Some 
of the highest villages are the most striking in this 
respect ; and were Celerina, Samaden, and Bevers, 
placed in any other country, they would be called 
really handsome. Industry is the source of all this 
wealth, though the theatre of its exertions must be 
sought for elsewhere than in the Engadine. The 
natives are to be found scattered through every town 
and country in Europe, where they are well known as 
successful refiners of sugar, and as deeply skilled in the 
art of confectionary. Their love of home, brings them 
back at a later age to this valley, with full purses, 
devoted to the embellishment of their native village. 
The architecture is peculiar. The houses are built 
of rough stone, with a coating of white plaster on 
the exterior, and a wainscot of larch in the interior. 
The windows are numerous, but in general small, 
square, and deeply sunk in the wall, like the em- 



THE ENGADINE. 25 

brasure of a battery. Here and there the white 
stucco is painted, but seldom tastefully. But above 
all, the churches are so elegant that it is difficult 
to believe oneself in a protestant district — for our 
good reformers, in general, seem to have been of opin- 
ion that good taste was of the party of the Pope 
and Cardinals, and to have abjured it accordingly in 
their ecclesiastical edifices. The churches of the vil- 
lages above named, are, for the most part, decorated 
with quadrangular towers, and cupolas of goodly height 
and proportion. Further down, towards the Lower- 
Engadine, spires become more frequent. 

Of the people and their language more anon. While 
my sight was regaled in this manner, my feet were very 
busily employed in splashing through the mud and 
snow which filled the valley, and by noon I was advan- 
cing fast towards a better climate. Between Celerina 
and Samaden, the river Inn first intrudes itself upon 
notice, by approaching the road ; but it is here a dull 
sluggish stream. Below the village of Scanf, however, 
it approves itself a worthy offspring of the Alps and 
their glaciers, dashing down a deep ravine with a sheet 
of foam and a wave as green as the sea. 

The penalty I had paid for my exposure to the 
refraction of the sun's rays from the snow the preceding 
day, involving the loss of my skin as far as face and 
hands were concerned, I made no use of letters of 
introduction with which I had been furnished, and 
hastened forward. 

The forests of Engadine are almost wholly composed 
of larch, and give a peculiar character to the slopes of 
the mountains. The forms of the latter in the Upper- 



26 THE ENGADINE. 

Engadine are far from striking, having roundish heads 
and flanks which descend steeply but tamely towards 
the valley. 

After the village of Brail, the Lower-Engadine com- 
mences, and with it the scenery takes a much more 
romantic character. Zernetz is situated in a small vale 
into which three several vallies are seen to open, viz. 
those of the Upper and Lower Engadine, and the Val 
de Forno, from the latter of which a powerful stream 
comes rolling into the Inn. I had fixed upon this vil- 
lage for the termination of the day's march ; but when 
I arrived there and still saw the sun far too high to 
permit me to betake myself to night quarters, I deter- 
mined to attempt the next stage of the valley, which 
opened straight before me, towards the village of Suss. 
I pursued therefore a romantic forest-path strewed with 
the fawn-coloured needles of the larch, and rendered 
musical by the roar of the Inn at my right hand : — often 
looking back to the snowy dome-formed head of the 
Scaletta, and forward to one or two noble summits 
attached to the Silvretta. I reached Suss, but not 
liking the appearance of the cabarets, determined to 
push on to the next village, Lavin. I forgot to men- 
tion, that soon after crossing the limits of the Upper 
Engadine, the snow had ceased to cover the lower 
grounds. The Gentianas and Primula far inosa strug- 
gled to hold up their heads though it was evident that 
vegetation had suffered much ; and at Zernetz and 
Suss, no snow was to be seen. Step after step brought 
me to Lavin, where I saw no inn of any description, 
and was therefore constrained to proceed yet another 
league on the chance of finding one at Guarda. 



THE ENGADINE. 27 

Hitherto the road had led me along the river- side, 
and I had flattered myself, that every additional step 
would remove me further from that portion of the 
country still covered with snow, from which I now 
considered myself to have escaped. Judge then of my 
vexation and dismay, when upon reaching a gentle 
eminence I saw this said village of Guarda perched 
up many hundred feet upon the mountain side to the 
left, fairly within the limit of the snow, which was 
thickly spread upon every roof. However I was ' in 
for it,' and therefore climbed and climbed. Some 
recompence I got from the enlarged view thus 
obtained of the surrounding mountains, more espe- 
cially those in the lower part of the Engadine ; such 
as were in my more immediate neighbourhood, 
although round-headed and marked by but few rocky 
inequalities, were yet majestic from their very solidity, 
and the manner in which they were ranged, one after 
the other, with their vast sides clothed with forests, 
and furrowed by the course of avalanches. Those in 
the distance, from their rocky and varied outline, 
promised fresh gratification for the morrow. Just 
before reaching Guarda, the pathway is unexpect- 
edly interrupted by one of those deep indentures 
in the mountain side which so often disappoint the 
traveller, and the road must make along circuit before 
it can gain the opposite side of the ravine. The gorge 
was not however uninteresting, from the quantity of 
fine larch with which it was filled. At Guarda, in 
spite of the snow, I contrived to feel at home in a 
very indifferent inn ; yet was not sorry to make my 
escape early the following morning, and hasten toward 



28 THE ENGADINE. 

a more inviting tract of country. Some hours, how- 
ever, elapsed before it was reached, as I preferred 
keeping to the heights, in spite of the snow and mud. 

I should soon have attained the village of Fellan, 
posted similarly to Guarda on the mountain side, had 
not the frequent recurrence of deep ravines or clefts 
in the flanks of the mountain, thrown serious obstacles 
in my path. Any one less obstinate in pursuing a 
course would surely have been discouraged, especially, 
when the footway suddenly led me so deep into 
the mountains to the North that I almost lost sight 
of the main valley, and could descry the bleak and 
snowy interior of that part of the chain, — and all this, to 
avoid a chasm that would have been crossed by a pistol 
ball. The outline of the mountains on the left grew 
more and more tame ; but the varied forms of the 
rocky-headed barrier opposite, made full compen- 
sation. From the dripping roofs and muddy streets 
of Fellan, half an hour's winding descent conducted me 
to quite a different climate. In the neighbourhood of 
Schutz no snow was visible, but the finest meadows 
and corn land, with the crops in a very forward 
state. About six miles further down the valley, I 
reached the remarkable wooden bridge which spans 
the savage gorge of the Wraunca, as it comes foaming 
from the defile of Ramonsch. Above this Pont-Piedra, 
as it is called, rise the ruins of the ancient castle of 
Tschanuff, on a shady rock to the left of the torrent. 
This was the most picturesque spot I had observed in 
the Engadine. On the hill-side beyond, lies the village 
of Remus, whither I directed my steps. The Pont- 
Piedra is thrown over the abyss in a single wooden 



THE ENGADINE. 29 

arch of about sixty feet span, and is boldly and 
cleverly constructed. 

On entering the village, I inquired of such human 
beings as I met, where I should find some house of 
entertainment. It seemed however, that every indi- 
vidual I fell in with was totally ignorant of German, 
and only skilled in the Ladin, the singular lan- 
guage current in this nook of the Alps. After some 
delay, I fancied myself in a fair way of being safely 
towed into port,by a burly good-humoured fellow, 
who, apparently guessing my necessities, accosted 
me in a vile compound of Ladin and German, put his 
arm within mine, and led me in triumph through the 
village. I am by nature unsuspicious, and have an 
old-fashioned habit of believing every man with whom 
I come in contact to be ' chevalier sans peur et sans 
reproche,' till I see good reason to surmise the contrary : 
and I assure you, reader, that is the easiest way of 
getting through the world. I therefore let myself be 
guided for a moment with pleasure. A side glance at 
my companion showed me, that he was marvellously 
ill- apparelled ; however recollecting that I had no skin 
on my nose, I thought I was not warranted to turn it 
up either in contempt or disgust. Nevertheless, after 
proceeding about a hundred yards in this brotherly 
manner, I perceived that my cicerone's gait was some- 
what serpentine ; that he leaned upon my arm rather 
more heavily than was consistent with even the patron- 
age he was affording me ; and that, upon the whole, he 
bore considerably towards a deep ditch to windward. My 
first impulse of indignation at finding that I was actually 
staggering in fellowship with a tipsy man, prompted me 



30 THE ENGADINE. 

to let him continue on the same tack till we should be 
at the edge, and then, by suddenly slipping the towing 
rope, let him tumble in ; but my philanthrophy got the 
better of my indignation, and I therefore exerted my- 
self with greater vigour, and acting like the weather- 
board of a Dutch lugger, kept him and myself from 
going out of course. Under this arrangement we soon 
reached the cabaret, where I had all the trouble in the 
world to pacify the sottish scroundrel, who attempted to 
pick two several quarrels with me; to wit, one, because 
I would not invite him to drink out of my stoup, and a 
second, because I refused to pledge him in his. Shak- 
ing myself loose from this discreditable companionship, 
I pursued my course towards the Martins-briick, keep- 
ing for the most part the edge of the river, and 
winding through thickets of alder, barberry, and the 
prunus padus, which have covered the level deposits 
of sand and pebbles brought down by the stream in 
times of flood. 

At the Martins-briick, the vale of the Inn opens for 
an instant, but soon contracts into deep and gloomy 
ravine, surrounded by bare and precipitous heights, 
which forms the entry into the savage pass of the 
Finstermiinz. The road, in the mean time, crosses 
the bridge to the right bank, enters the Tyrol, and 
winding over a forested mountain to a considerable 
height, conducts the traveller into the little alpine 
valley of Nauders. 

My quarters were in a clean tidy little inn ; and I 
found time, during the course of the evening, to put upon 
paper many little memoranda relative to the singular 
district, which I had just traversed through its entire 



THE ENGADINE. 31 

length ; and as the subject is an uncommon one, shall 
here transcribe some further remarks upon the Enga- 
dine, its history and language. 

Upwards of 600 years before the birth of Christ, 
this portion of the Alps became inhabited by an Ita- 
lian race, to which the Greeks and Romans give the 
name of Tyrrhenians or Etruscans. Their native coun- 
try appears to have been that portion of Italy now 
called Tuscany, and it is probable that they were 
driven from their homes by an irruption of the Gauls. 
From the name of Rhetus the chief of the refu- 
gees, the whole district occupied by them took the 
name of Rhetia. The first settlers retired to the 
Grison-Oberland, where they called their principal 
valley Domestica, now Tomiliasca. They seem to have 
intermixed peaceably with the old Celtic inhabitants, 
and to have built towns and castles, the names of many 
of which still speak their origin. ! The form of go- 
vernment, in judicial matters, to this day bears evident 
marks of its Tuscan origin. 

The Rhetians preserved their independence, and 
were even occasionally at war with the Romans till 
the age of Augustus, when shortly before the Christian 
era, they were subdued. 

The Engadine is supposed to have been peopled by 
refugees in the time of Hannibal's invasion of Italy. 

On the decline of the Roman power, Rhetia fell 
successively under the dominion of the Ostrogoths, 
Lombards, and Franks. Then followed the feudal 

1 Tusis, Tuscia, (in Italian, Toscana ;) Rhealta, Rhetia alta ; Rhezunz, 
Rhetia ima.. In the Engadine — Lavin, Lavinium ,- Sus, Susa; Zernetz 
Cerneto ; Ardetz, Ardea, &c. 



32 THE ENGADINE. 

times, from the thraldom of which the country became 
freed by the formation of the three celebrated leagues, 
those of Maison-Dieu, in 1396, and of Cadet, at Trons, 
in 1424 ; and that of the Seven Jurisdictions, in 1436. 
Since this time the inhabitants and country have been 
known by the name of the Grisons. 

The primitive language of this people became, in the 
course of centuries, and through intercourse with the 
various nations by which they were subjugated, 
abandoned by the greater portion of the inhabitants of 
the country. Still it survives in the more remote and 
elevated vallies of this portion of the Alps, and pre- 
sents a singular instance of the preservation of the 
language of ancient Latium and Etruria, in a form 
entirely distinct from that which it assumed under the 
Romans. 

More than half the inhabitants of the Grisons, as 
well as of several vallies contiguous to the Tyrol, 
speak this language. The abbey of Disentis, foun- 
ded in the seventh century, contained a library full 
of most curious works relative to this ancient tongue, 
— among others, a translation of the Four Evan- 
gelists, and a great number of ecclesiastical works and 
manuscripts. On the French irruption into the Gri- 
sons in 1799, they were lost to the country by the 
destruction of the monastery. 

The language is divided into two principal idioms, 
the Romane or Cialover, spoken by the peasants of the 
vallies watered by the Further and Middle Rhine, 
and the Ladin in use in the Engadine. The former 
appears to be the most ancient, and to owe its rise 
to a mixture of the language of ancient Etruria with 



THE ENGADINE. 



33 



that of the Lepontii, the Celtic tribe inhabiting this 
portion of the Alps at the time of the emigration. 

The Ladin, being of later origin, has more affinity 
with the vulgar or Roman idiom. 

The earliest writings extant in these dialects are 
some dramatical performances in verse, on Scripture 
subjects. 

When the people of the Grisons embraced the re- 
formation in great numbers, the Hhetian language was 
made the language of the pulpit, and books began to 
be printed in it. The first was a Catechism, in 
1551, in the Ladin idiom of the Engadine. In 1640, 
a translation of the New Testament appeared, many 
detached portions of the Bible having previously been 
printed. Indeed the New Testament was translated 
into one of the dialects as early as 1560. The entire 
Bible appeared in 1748. 

The Bomane library comprises about 30 volumes, 
consisting' almost wholly of books of devotion ; and the 
Ladin enumerates probably as many. I add, by way 
of curiosity, the Lord's Prayer in both these idioms. 



ROMANE. 
Bab nos, ilg qual eis Tschiel. 
Soing vengig faig tieu Num. Tieu 
Raginavel vengig nou tiers. Tia 
Velgia daventig seo enten Tschiel, 
aschi er in Terra. Nies Paun 
da minchiagi dai a nus oz. A nus 
pardunne nos Piccaus sco nus 
pardunein a nos Culponts. A nus 
manarbuc en Pruvament, mo nus 
spindre d'ilg mal. Parchei ca tieu 
eis ilg Raginavel, a la Pussonza 
a la Glierga a semper. Amen. 



LADIN. 

Bap nos, quel chi est ils Cels. 
Fat songh vegnia teis nom. Teis 
Reginom venga nan pro no. Tia 
Voglia dvainta in Terra seo in 
Cel. Nos pan d'iminchia di da 
a no hoz. Perduna'ns a nos De- 
bitatuors. Et nu'ns manar in pro- 
vamaints mo spendra'ns dal mal. 
Perche teis ais il reginom, la pus- 
sanza et la gloria in Eternum. 
Amen. 



34 THE ENGADINE. 

The castle of Nauders is kept in repair by the 
Austrian government, but is far from being- a pic- 
turesque object. A road leads from hence to Glurns 
in the vale of the Adige, which being passable for 
tolerably large carriages, forms the main communi- 
cation between the Engadine and Upper- Innthal, and 
the south of Tyrol. Before I quit this corner of 
Switzerland, I have yet two observations to make, 
one relative to the dogs, and the other to the coin in 
general use. 

A more inhospitable, ungenerous set of quadrupeds 
than the former does not surely exist in civilized 
Europe. I hardly saw one, in my whole walk 
through the valley, from Silva Plana to the Martins- 
briick (and they seem attached to every house), 
which did not fly at my heels ; so that, passing 
through their villages, I and my pole had to be con- 
tinually on the alert. The worst was, that in con- 
formity with the custom of many continental towns, 
the water-spouts, carrying off the drainings from the 
roofs, empty their contents, from the height of twenty 
feet, into the middle of the narrow streets ; and the 
snow being in a melting state, I found that, to escape 
a bath, I must keep close to the houses. This gave the 
vicious curs the best opportunity in the world of 
sallying forth without the slightest warning ; so that I 
was kept continually in a ferment, between Sylla and 
her dogs on one side, and Charybdis and her water- 
spouts on the other. The position was perfectly classic, 
and might have had charms for a better scholar than 
myself; for me, I own, it had none, and I had much 
difficulty in maintaining good temper, and not wreak- 



THE ENGADINE. 35 

ing my rising vengeance upon the canine tormentors 
within my reach, the more so, as the spouts were quite 
beyond it. 

Now as to the money — there is a certain little coin, 
about the size of a pea, and called blutzkers, which is 
the offence of my eyes, and the terror of my arithmetic, 
and T only mention it to protest against such abomina- 
tions. A blear-eyed old crone spent, yesterday, at 
least twenty minutes, in counting me out some hun- 
dreds in change of a crown-piece. — But with the 
Tyrol commences another division of our wanderings. 



D 2 



CHAPTER II. 



Well they know the strength 



Of their own fastnesses, the mountain paths 

Impervious to pursuit, the vantages 

Of rock, and pass, and woodland, and ravine. 

And hardly will ye tempt them to forego 

These natural aids wherein they put their trust ; 

As in their stubborn spirit, each alike 

Deemed by themselves invincible, and so 

By Roman found and Goth — beneath whose sway 

Slowly persuaded rather than subdu'd 

They came.' 

Before entering; upon the relation of my rambles in 
that romantic portion of the Alps, over whose border I 
passed yesterday evening, it may be well to occupy a 
few lines with a brief sketch of its geographical position 
and former history. 

The County of Tyrol embraces the central and eastern 
portion of the Rhetian, and the westernmost parts 
of the Carnic and Noric Alps. A line drawn through 
the glacier of the Ortler, in a direction nearly north 
and south, will give a general idea of its western 
limits, and the line of separation between it and 
the Val Telline, the Grisons and the Voraarlberg. To 
the east, the snowy pyramid of the Great Glockner 
rises from its sea of ice, as the boundary-stone of the 
three provinces of the Tyrol, Salzburg, and Carinthia. 
The chain of mountains to the north of the vale of the 
Inn overlooks the well-cultivated plains of Bavaria ; 



NAUDERS. 37 

and from the southern declivities of the Alps, a multi- 
tude of streams wind downward towards the teeming 
plains of Friuli and Lombardy. 

This portion of the Alps having- been subjugated 
by the Roman arms in the time of Augustus, subse- 
quently shared the chequered and declining fortunes 
of the Empire, and many of the powerful and innu- 
merable swarms of the north found passage over the 
Rhetian Alps, and through the heart of the present 
Tyrol, towards the fair plains of sunny Italy. Having 
been the scene of many severe struggles between the 
Romans and their Gothic invaders, it fell eventually 
under the sway of successive dynasties of the latter, till 
after the fall of the empire of the Ostrogoths. Then 
the northern portions seem to have attained some de- 
gree of independence, while the southern or Italian 
part was attached to the kingdom of the Lombards. 

During the middle ages, the whole country was 
broken up into small states, and came into the power 
of a number of petty temporal and spiritual lords ; 
under nominal vassalage to the German emperors. 
But it may readily be conceived that peace, and 
advancement in civilization, were utterly inconsistent 
with the continual bitter feuds to which this system 
gave rise. The nobles seemed to have been, for the 
greater part, of the same dispositions with the vultures, 
into whose secluded retreats they intruded themselves ; 
building their castles frequently in the wildest and 
most inaccessible solitudes, and waging upon their 
neighbours, and upon travellers and merchants the 
most unlawful aggression. In course of time, cer- 
tain of these petty sovereigns gained a preponderance 



38 NAUDERS. 

in the country, and among the earliest were the 
Counts of Andechs, one of whom, in the time of 
Rudolph of Habsburg, attained great ascendancy in 
South Tyrol. Mainhard, a noble of this race, and 
count of Goerz and Tyrol, greatly enlarged the pos- 
sessions of his family, and seems to have made acqui- 
sitions in the vale of the Inn. His castle was at Tyrol, 
or Teriolis, near the town of Meran, in the upper 
valley of the Adige. Of the latter town he subse- 
quently took the title of Duke. He appears to have 
been a man of talent and noble mind, and the old 
chronicler Giiler makes especial mention of his death 
in the odour of sanctity. The last branch of this race 
became extinct in the person of Margaret, surnamed 
Maultasch. Her first husband had been of the house 
of Austria: by her second, a Bavarian prince, she 
had an only son, upon whose premature death, she 
left her possessions by bequest to the dukes of Austria. 
A war, ruinous in every way to the inhabitants of 
Tyrol, was the consequence ; the dukes of Bavaria 
disputing the possession : and it was not terminated 
till duke Rudolph consented to buy off the claims of 
his rival. Their lawful possession of Tyrol was after- 
wards confirmed to the Dukes of Austria by the emperor 
Charles IV, and from that time, with the exception 
of a brief space during the late wars, it has remained 
attached to the imperial house. 

Many of the princes of Austria appear to have fully 
appreciated the value of the Tyrol, and to have treated 
it with becoming indulgence and justice. Amongst 
these we may notice Frederic IV. to whom the Ty- 
rolese ascribe the foundation of their comparatively free 



THE FINSTERMUNZ. 39 

constitution, and their possession of many immunities 
which they well merited and repaid, by their faithful 
adherence and devotion to the House of Habsburg. 
None have had their fidelity more severely tried — 
none have proved more faithful and more true. Till 
lately, Austria does not seem to have looked upon the 
Tyrol as a source of revenue, though the mines were 
considered imperial property ; but rather as a country 
whose character demanded and deserved the utmost 
consideration ; not only from dictates of policy, but 
from kindly feeling and gratitude for long-tried 
fidelity, Till lately, their ancient rights, privileges, 
and immunities were considered inviolate. Oppor- 
tunities will doubtless not be wanting in the following 
pages, to give some detail of the events of the late 
war, and the changes which these have entailed upon 
Tyrol. It may however be mentioned, that the country 
is governed by a representative body, convened from 
time to time, and composed of deputies from the Four 
Estates. 

Leaving Nauders, our route descends rapidly into 
the gully through which the stream traversing the 
village, finds its way to the Inn ; and leads us deeper 
and deeper into a small ravine, defended, in the nar- 
rowest part,j by a fortification called the Wall of St. 
Nicholas, till swallowed up in the great gorge of the 
Finstermunz. 

I am now no novice in scenes of alpine sublimity 
and grandeur, and cannot stop and utter a superlative, 
at every fresh scene of mountain magnificence ; yet I 
was extremely struck by the sight and passage of 



40 THE INNTHAL. 

this great and profound trench in the very heart of 
the Alps. 

In the part where the road from Nauders falls upon 
it, it forms a vast cradle, thickly wooded with larch 
and pine, and deeply sunk in the bosom of the moun- 
tains. Into this the Inn worms its way by a narrow 
defile, surrounded by precipitous steps, over which a 
few straggling and dizzy foot-paths, frequented only 
by the smuggler and the chamois-hunter, are seen to 
stray. Where the Inn attains the narrow cleft, which 
forms the termination of the Finstermiinz, a bridge 
has been thrown over its torrent, and an assemblage 
of singular old buildings, a gateway, chapel, and 
auberge, arrest the attention. A few steps farther, the 
glen gradually opens into a vale of more ordinary 
character, in which the river mostly usurps the entire 
level, or reluctantly gives place to a few scanty 
patches of cultivation. The mountains in advance are 
not picturesque, being more or less round-headed ; but 
when opportunity is afforded for the eye to glance up 
into the interior of the country, through some lateral 
openings, rocks and summits of another character may 
be distinguished. 

A second division of the valley, may be said to com- 
mence with the village of Birkach. Here it widens, 
and continues comparatively fruitful and expanded 
to the bridge of Schbneck. From this point to the 
bridge of Pruz, the landscape is sadly deformed by 
the marvellous sterility of the ridges to the left; but 
the neighbourhood of the latter locality presents by far 
the most picturesque scene between Finstermiinz and 
Landeck. A towering rock rises on the left bank of the 



LAN DECK. 41 

river, crowned by the ruins of a large castle ; while 
alpine pastures and single farms cover the mountains on 
the same side to a considerable height. To the east, 
the smiling vale of the Vaca opens into the Innthal, 
presenting to the view a long chain of varied heights, 
diminishing in the perspective. Immediately below 
the village of Pruz, the Inn passes into a second 
narrow gorge, at the entrance of which the traveller 
crosses the wooden bridge, celebrated for the many 
fierce struggles which took place in its vicinity, 
between the Bavarians and the Tyrolese. The pastures 
again cease, for a time, to enliven the bosom of the 
vale, and the Inn, with his numerous sand and pebble- 
beds, becomes the sole occupant. The road is carried 
along the foot of precipitous hills, exhibiting alter- 
nately rocky ledges, and steeply inclined earth-slips, 
descending from a great height, and partially covered 
with low bushes. From hence to Landeck, the scenery 
is distinguished by all those characteristic features which 
form the more agreeable scenes among the alps, the eye 
embracing at the same moment the sublime and savage 
features of the mountain pass, and many a delightful and 
beautiful spot of upland cultivation, green pastures, ham- 
lets embowered in trees, and frequent farms scattered 
over the mountain side. The mountains beyond Lan- 
deck, tower over the termination of the pass, and though 
they were partially wrapped in haze, it was easy to 
perceive that they belonged to a far more picturesque 
class than any which had met my view since I entered 
the heart of the Grisons. Just at the point where the 
Inn reaches the end of the defile, the castle of Landeck is 
seen perched high on the rocks, and the close ravine 



42 THE INNTHAL. 

gives place to a noble valley, whose diversified surface 
sprinkled with villages, and clothed with vegetation, 
forms a scene of uncommon beauty. Rain had set in 
a hour before I reached the town ; I therefore 
sought out a shelter for the evening, and hoped for a 
clearer sky on the morrow. 

This was not wanting, and the bright sun and balmy 
air of a May-morning enticed me forth at an early 
hour, much delighted with the noble features of the 
country surrounding me. 

Landeck is a town of some importance and bustle. 
It is situated in that portion of the Stanzerthal, where 
the more abundant and more nobly-descended stream 
of the Inn, bursting through the narrow ravine before 
described, enters the valley, and mingles its waters 
with those of the Rosanna. It forms a point of 
junction for the three principal roads of N. W. Tyrol, 
viz. those of Switzerland by the vallies of Montafun 
and Stanz, and of S. Tyrol and the Engadine : and 
that of Inspruck and the Lower- Innthal. The town 
occupies the uneven and broken ground on either side 
of the Inn, the instant it escapes from the defile ; two 
wooden bridges forming the communication. The castle 
is a heavy building in bad repair, rising on a rock on 
the right bank, and is the residence of the official post- 
master. From any attempt to describe its architecture, 
I turn with pleasure to the neighbouring church. 

A visit to this was indispensable, from the promise 
which its position, a little to the right of the castle, 
seemed to hold out of an extended view : but I did not 
suspect, that I should find appended to the high Gre- 



LANDECK. 43 

cian tower which was my guide in threading the narrow 
streets of the town, the most singularly beautiful and 
regular Gothic structure I have seen amongst the Alps. 
It has three aisles, the centre one terminating in a 
deep semi-octagonal apsis, light pillars, brackets and 
windows of the perpendicular style, very good tracery 
in the latter, and an excellently groined roof, both 
in the main and side aisles. The groining struck me 
much from its elegance and simplicity. The doorways 
are also in strict harmony ; and there is a purity and 
chasteness in the general proportions which not all the 
gaudy and cumbersome trappings of a Roman Catholic 
interior could destroy. The position is perfectly beau- 
tiful, and the view commanded by it, no less so. 

Here the traveller sees the first specimen of the bold 
and rocky range of mountains, which forms the northern 
screen to the valley of the Inn for so many leagues 
without interruption. The principal summits over this 
portion of the valley are Freyspitz, Landschaftkopf, 
and Partschinspitz. 

After several hours spent in rambling about the 
environs of Landeck, I resumed my journey, and 
descending the valley, passed Zambs, a most pictur- 
esque convent ; then forward, under the shade of the 
Cronberg, a castellated hill, which cannot fail to remind 
the traveller of the Drachenfels on the Rhine; and 
early in the afternoon began to approach the market- 
town of Imst. Instead of turning however to the 
northward into the entrance of the Gigerthal, where 
this little town is situated, I kept closer to the river, 
and gained the village of Karmezbften by a shorter 
foot-path ; — often looking back to the last section of 



44 THE INNTHAL. 

the valley from the Cronberg to the junction of the Inn 
and the Gigerbach, which is wonderfully striking from the 
precipitous outlines of the surrounding mountains — 
more than usually so at this moment, from the gradual 
approach of a thundergust from the Oberland. For- 
ward it came, shrouding one enormous rock after 
another in its dim and vaporous mist, and spreading a 
shade of the deepest indigo over the flanks of the moun- 
tain and the depth of the valley. The tall spire of a 
village-church in advance, seemed to indicate a place 
of refuge, and thither I hastened. However, the 
storm appears to have been dispersed, on advancing 
to the portion of the valley immediately opposite 
Imst, where an imposing pyramidical summit rises up 
like a wedge in the centre of the mountains ; and the 
rain passed into the interior of the country to the north- 
ward, leaving the vale of the Inn open to my further 
progress. 

The evening- walk to Haimingen was cool and re- 
freshing. After quitting the village of Kawes, the 
route leads through the fir-forests, and commands, for the 
most part, a glorious view upon the broad section of the 
Innthal, commencing at Haimingen, and extending to 
Thanrein. The Oetzthal opens to the right, and pre- 
sents a wide entrance sentinelled by noble mountains. 
This extensive alpine valley, with the glaciers at its head, 
had long been an object of curiosity, and I looked wist- 
fully into its recesses, while passing over the rocky and 
broken flanks of the mountains opposite. Common pru- 
dence, however, forbade my turning aside, and seeking 
the higher regions of the central chain at this early 
season of the year. I comforted myself therefore, with 



HAIMINGEN. 45 

the hope of passing into it, from Southern Tyrol at 
another stage of my rambles, and quickened my steps 
towards the smiling vale before me, which appeared 
overspread with those many and bright tints which 
cultivation alone produces. 

As evening drew on, thunder clouds of an almost 
inky hue settled heavily upon the mountains about 
Zirl and Inspruck, which were now in prospect. 
In the neighbourhood of Imst, I noticed the first crops 
of maize. Just at night-fall, having crossed to the 
right bank of the river, I reached the little woodland 
village of Haimingen, and found a comfortable inn. 

I am reminded by an after- thought to mention, that, 
while descending from the church of Landeck, I was 
accosted by an old woman, who, crossing herself, asked 
me if I had come on pilgrimage on my own account, 
and of my own free will, or if I had been ordered by the 
priest. The pious old soul was no doubt struck with 
the woeful state of my visage, and thought that no other 
mortal reason but an obligation to do penitence before 
the shrine of our Lady of Landeck could have brought 
me out of doors. As I could not but give her to 
understand that I was not one of the faithful, and had 
no business, public or private, to transact with her 
ladyship, she thought proper to make a rapid retreat, 
without giving me either alms or benediction, both of 
which I was in some measure led to expect. Fellow- 
feeling is said to be productive of kindness, and for a 
few days I had been experiencing the truth of the 
observation ; having been suddenly endowed with a 
sympathetic commiseration for snakes, serpents, spiders, 
and reptiles of that description, merely because I recol- 



46 THE INNTHAL. 

lected that they cast their skins, which said operation, 
judging from the experience I was making, is by no 
means as amusing a process as might be supposed. On 
the contrary, it is attended with infinite perplexity and 
inconvenience ; and, as to outward appearance, I do not 
wonder that the old woman took me for a pilgrim more 
sorely vexed than ordinary. 

I must insert a date now and then, else my worthy 
reader may be tempted to suspect that I draw the 
long-bow — from which vice I would wish to be sup- 
posed to be altogether free. 

May the 16th. My walk from Haimingen to Zirl, 
demands but few words. 

The vale of the Inn increases in interest as you ap- 
proach Inspruck. The monastery of Stambs, is, I be- 
lieve, Benedictine, and by far the handsomest in the 
upper part of the valley. It rises among fat pastures 
under the shadow of the wooded mountains to the south. 
From thence to Zirl, a little post-town situated on the 
left bank of the Inn, the vale is fertile, but not very 
varied in its character. Here I intended to make a halt 
of a day or two; and had I not been predisposed, 
should have been almost compelled to do so, by the 
torrents which began to descend at an early hour 
in the afternoon. I made my choice of an inn, a little 
aside from the great thoroughfares, for I am a great 
lover of silence, and began to busy myself with various 
matters which it was high time I got into order. 

Hitherto I have noticed no costumes of a remarkably 
graceful character. In the Engadine there is no 
characteristic one, unless dirty black caps, body- vest- 
ments, and scarlet stockings, be considered entitled 



ZIRL. 47 

to that distinction. In the Tyrol, or I should rather 
say the Upper- Innthal, something- of a national costume 
may be perceived. Among the male portion of the 
community, the black or green high-crowned hat with 
a tassel may be observed : — not to speak of the 
chamois leather breeches. To these the more accep- 
table name of shorts applies to the very letter, as they 
seldom reach the knee. The latter is consequently 
bare, as the stocking is gartered below it. The 
women — I only speak of the peasantry, resemble as 
to their attire, for the most part, those of their class in 
the neighbouring countries, and may be distinguished 
from them, chiefly in the three following particulars. — 
First, the head-gear, consisting of a thick, round, dark 
blue or black machine, something between the cap of a 
granadier and a bee-hive in form, and apparently both 
warm and weighty. Into this, the head is inserted to 
a considerable depth, and I do not know to what to 
compare a parcel of old women upon their knees in 
the fields, for so they are constantly seen, if not to a 
swarm of gigantic moles. —In the second place, I should 
notice the stockings, which are ordinarily worn without 
feet, shoes being also a superfluity. — And thirdly, the 
petticoat, or petticoats, for to produce the effect usual, 
they must indeed be many. - These start out from the 
hips with such an unnatural swirl, that not being 
remarkably long, the lower part of the woman looks 
like a bell. I understand that a kind of wooden yoke 
or hoop is used to produce this effect. I shall perhaps 
get to know for certain, and will not fail to report the 
progress of my information, for there is no device of this 
kind, however absurd, which may not hope for fashion- 



48 THE INNTHAL. 

able adoption sooner or later, such is the taste for 
monstrosities in the present generation. 

A custom which was once the fashion in polite 
Europe, but which is now, like many other laudable 
relics of primitive simplicity, exiled to the mountains, is, 
that the person charged with household matters carries 
the ensigns of her dignity in a large bunch of weighty 
keys at one side of her girdle, and a large flap purse 
at the other. And I have also noticed, by which 
it will be seen that I have not been deficient in acute 
observation, that the prettiest person about the pre- 
mises is in general charged with these insignia, and the 
duties which they import. There is good sense in 
that : — a sound that is ever ringing in your ears ought 
to be associated with some pleasing image, and should 
not merely serve like the bell on the cat's neck in the 
fable, to announce the approach of a disagreeable 
personage. 

But, gentle reader, while the rain is pattering upon 
the casement, and the heavy mist hanging down like a 
curtain upon the mountain side, I see no reason why we 
should let the gloom which is deepening without, enter 
within doors. Many hours have gone by, since I last 
summoned my fancied companion to hold me company : 
but the present moment is too propitious — so taking my 
seat with my back against the great glazed oven which 
occupies an angle of the Tyrolese kitchen, I invite 
you to do the same, and to listen to me with indulgence. 

You are then a traveller and a pedestrian. I will 
not suppose you of necessity a solitary one— if you 
have a companion, so much the better, supposing that 
your views in travelling, your tastes, and strength are 



ZIRL. 49 

tolerably matched : without this, better that each pur- 
sues his own path. Two companions are enough for a 
journey of this description — three present at least this 
recommendation, that there is always a casting vote — 
four may travel together, but are apt to fall into two 
distinct parties — five is quite out of the question in 
common cases. 

However I suppose you solitary : not rich enough 
to indulge in needless expense — nor so poor, as to 
deny yourself any real necessary of life, or to forbid 
an outlay extraordinary when circumstances seem to 
require it ; — with strength and health sufficient for mo- 
derate and occasionally for severe exertion — with youth, 
good-humour, and elastic spirits, in sufficient quantity. 

Beside these, you must have some kind of object in 
your travels, and some kind of occupation, but beware 
of undertaking too many. It is always amusing and pro- 
fitable to write a journal, even though you should not 
think of making a fool of yourself, by exposing it to the 
public eye. To draw, to botanize, to collect insects, to 
study geology, — all are good ; but one end in view is 
sufficient, if you will follow it well and without inter- 
ruption. 

If you keep a journal, write when you can ; but never 
postpone, if there is the slightest possibility of noting 
down the proceedings of a day at its close. If you get 
one or two days in arrear, I fear that without much 
exertion your pen will never overtake you, besides the 
recollection of what you see loses its freshness, and 
your description or relation is never so true to nature. 

If you sketch, do not be too difficult in choosing your 
point of view; but when the object first strikes 

E 



50 ZIRL. 

you, — out with your materials. A careful outline is 
always valuable, whether you have time to finish it 
or no. 

To botanize is well, even if you only examine and 
note down the plants, without attempting to carry off 
the spoil to your hortus siccus. If the latter be the 
case, no time must be lost when you arrive at your 
night- quarters, to arrange the plants and secure your 
prize. The botanist and the entomologist, in like 
manner, have abundant evening's employment. As to 
the geologist, it is evident, the study must be con- 
fined by travellers of our class, to observation and 
note-taking. You may hammer, and break, and splin- 
ter as much as you like, but avoid cramming your 
pockets. A doubtful specimen or two may be car- 
ried forward to the evening's resting-place for the 
sake of more careful examination, but no collections 
are compatible with pedestrianism. 

As to your equipment, allow me to say thus 
much : your real necessities will be found to be far 
fewer in number than you may suppose ; and many 
an article to which you may be tempted to give place 
in your knapsack, will eventually only cumber you. 
Your wardrobe should be your first attention in 
arranging the contents of the latter, because upon that 
much of your comfort depends. Let the articles be 
selected with care and forethought ; for when, to what 
is really necessary in this department, you have added 
those et-ceteras which must be thought of, and those 
extras which one should always be provided with, your 
burden will not be far from the weight which it is 
advisable not to exceed. I am inclined to think, that this 



ZIRL. 51 

should not exceed twenty pounds, if your strength 
and activity be ordinary. As to the extras alluded to, 
1 may perhaps be allowed to advise that they consist 
primarily of a light suit and pair of shoes, for the con- 
venience of change. Woollen socks, cotton shirts, light 
cloth suit of clothes, and strong shoes are the safest 
travelling costume — both for wear and tear, and for 
enabling you to support those fluctuations of the weather 
to which you must necessarily be exposed. The sur- 
tout and umbrella are both needless indulgences, and 
will injure you by their weight more than they can 
ever benefit. If you are well wet through, you will 
walk the better, and probably be dry again before 
night-fall — if not, your change of apparel will stand you 
in stead. Besides this, an alpine tempest will laugh 
at all your wrappings, and blow your umbrella to the 
moon. 

Among your et-ceteras comprise paper, pens, ink, and 
soap — all scarce articles ; but no arms, beyond con- 
fidence in God's providence, a cheerful fearless demea- 
nour, prudence and sagacity, your alp-pole, and a good 
Sheffield whittle. Pocket-pistols with their parapha- 
nalia are weighty, and often useless when they are 
needed ; and reflection and a little experience will 
show you that there are few situations within 
or without doors, where ready wit and a prompt 
hand may not meet with good and powerful weapons 
at need. 

A valise sent forward by some conveyance to the 
principal towns on your route will afford you the 
means of refitting from time to time ; and, if you fare 
as well as I have generally done, you will seldom be 

e 2 



52 ZIRL. 

in a strait for a laundress, as there are few inns or 
chalets which will not furnish a good-humoured girl, 
who will take any portion of your apparel to the well, 
soak it, and then crush and batter it to very tatters 
between two stones in her anxiety to render it agreeable 
to you. 

But enough — the chimes are sounding the hour of 
vespers, and neither the rain nor the pleasure of im- 
parting good counsel must prevent my attending them. 
I am a protestant, and thank God that I am such : 
nevertheless I frequently worship in the same temple 
with a Roman Catholic congregation. I have found that 
God would meet me there : and depend upon it, that 
if properly disposed, there is no place where he will 
not meet you also. 

The heavy rain had finished its functions the follow- 
ing morning ; but had left all objects clothed in heavy 
fog. However I was content to remain quiet, and 
employed myself within doors till the afternoon, when 
the sky partially cleared, and I took the opportunity 
that offered to visit the three most remarkable objects 
in the vicinity of Zirl : the Martins-hole, the Calvario, 
and the castle of Fragenstein, all on the mountain-side 
to the north. 

The Martins- wand is a precipitous mass of rock, which, 
fronting the vale of the Inn, acts as a kind of buttress 
to the Solstein, one of the highest mountains of this 
range, accessible in about four hours' climb from Zirl. 
At a very considerable height, the rock bends inward, 
and gives place to a large hollow of very singular form 
and depth. To attain this, a small footway leads grad- 
ually up through the brushwood which covers the earthy 



THE MARTINS-WAND. 53 

slopes to the west of the precipice, and then reaching the 
angle of the latter, winds cautiously round one or two 
dizzy corners, and ascends finally by a steep and broken 
staircase cut in the rock, to the landing place under the 
shade of the impending masses, which hang over the 
hollow like a pent-house. Here the mountaineer finds 
himself in a cave about eighty feet broad and sixty 
deep, situated at the height of 740 feet over the Inn. 
In this singular hollow which is still above one thousand 
feet perpendicular below the first green spot on the 
summit of the precipice above, stands a crucifix eigh- 
teen feet high, sustaining a figure of our Saviour, and 
effigies of John and Mary at the foot. Many come 
hither on pilgrimage from all parts of Tyrol. 

There would seem no reason to doubt the general 
truth of the historical fragment which has given this 
spot so peculiar an interest, apart from its claims to 
examination as a natural curiosity. It appears that in 
the year 1493, the Emperor Maximilian, who had 
built a small hunting-lodge upon the Martins-buhel, a 
knoll between the foot of the precipice and the river, 
while engaged in the pursuit of the chamois upon the 
Martinswand, found himself suddenly in a position of 
the most fearful peril in the vicinity of this cavern. He 
was not saved from destruction without the interven- 
tion of one of those unlooked-for circumstances, which, 
in the mouth of popular tradition, is generally termed 
preternatural. If you at this day ask a peasant girl of 
Zirl what saved the Emperor, she will answer, ' a good 
angel : ' and to such a being, vulgar tradition has always 
ascribed his preservation. I have however met with a 
relation of the accident in an old German pamphlet, 



54 THE MARTINS-HOLE. 

which, at the same time that it gives a plain and com- 
prehensible account of the adventure, is written with 
so much simplicity, that I must tax my memory for the 
principal facts. It appears that after the young Em- 
peror had been hanging for some time upon the brink 
of the abyss, his cries for help were heard by a peasant 
girl, who warned the inhabitants of the Martins-biihel. 
A search was commenced : his person was discovered 
and recognized, and the apparent impossibility of ren- 
dering him assistance avowed by his subjects ; who, 
after making every effort, are described as collecting 
together at the base of the impending precipice, weep- 
ing, and praying to the saints to render that aid which 
was out of the power of man. Looking upon their 
prince as upon one in the agonies of death, they 
summoned the priests from the nearest chapel, and 
chanted with them the service for the dying, while 
the sacred elements and valedictory oil were held up to- 
wards him, that the view of them might comfort his par- 
ting soul. The Emperor on his part believing his death 
inevitable, made confession of his sins and prepared 
for death. The spikes of his crampons had given way, 
and he was on the point of abandoning the struggle for 
life, when a voice near him was heard to utter a 
shrill piercing cry : ' I repent,' moaned Maximilian, 
believing in his delirium, that the voice was not of 
this world. It appears that a chamois-hunter, impelled 
by the heat of the chase, had been led along the face 
of the same precipice, and suddenly espying a human 
being below him in the fearful position described, had 
uttered that wild sound of surprise ; and though him- 
self in a perilous situation, eventually succeeded in 



CASTLE OF FRAGENSTEIN. 55 

withdrawing his sovereign from the jaws of death. If 
I recollect right, the hardy peasant was afterward 
knighted, and ennobled by the name of Hollauer, in 
memory of the cry he had so opportunely uttered at 
the moment the Emperor was going to shrink from 
further effort. 

The precipices of the Martins -wand were the scene of 
a terrible combat in 1703 ; the Tyrolese having taken 
up that post to obstruct the passage of their Bavarian 
invaders, upon whom they wreaked a fearful vengeance 
by hurling down rocks upon them ; as well as from the 
use of the carbine, which had already then become 
a terrible weapon in the hands of these intrepid moun- 
taineers. 

Descending from thence, I gained the valley, and 
mounted the second elevation, upon which the Calvary 
is situated. The rock along whose acclivity the line 
of chapels is carried, forms one of the sides of a most 
peculiar rift in the mountains immediately adjoining 
the Martins- wand. From the principal chapel at the 
summit, you glance over the parapet into a deep and 
dark chasm, at the bottom of which a mountain- torrent 
is seen rolling, without the eye being able to trace either 
the manner of its entry or its exit. 

The third object of interest are the ruins of the castle 
of Fragenstein, of which two keeps and many walls 
remain. The situation and the view more particularly 
from their site are very picturesque. 

Still later, I strolled to the hamlet of Martins -biihel, 
situated, as just related, at the foot of the precipices of 
the Martins-wand, and separated from it by a small 
sloping wood and the road, principally to see what was 



56 THE INNTHAL. 

the appearance of the cavern from below ; and I first 
then conceived a true idea of its great height. The 
lofty cross within it is diminished to a scarcely observ- 
able object, and the cave itself would hardly be par- 
ticularly noticed, as remarkable either for size or 
figure. The sun was setting over the Upper Innthal, 
in the midst of one of those glorious assemblages of 
broken and disjointed clouds, which seem to bring 
the glory of heaven nearer to the earth. With these 
the sharp and bold forms of the mountains to the west 
were intermingled, till it became scarcely possible to 
discern which was vapour, and which, the solid and 
unchanging rock. 

The little town of Zirl possesses no remarkable 
feature, and I quitted it early the following afternoon, 
intending to go straight to Wiltau and Inspruck by the 
right bank of the Inn. I crossed the bridge and fol- 
lowing the footpath running along the base of the 
secondary hills, was led gradually forward into the 
fertile plain through which that river pursues its course. 
It appears to stretch beyond the towns of Inspruck and 
Hall ; whose cupolas and towers rise in the distance 
from its bosom, among the green fields of maize, 
which is the staple produce of the country. After 
proceeding half-way towards the proposed termination 
of my afternoon's walk, and arriving at the village of 
Vels, a thought suddenly struck me that it might be 
well, as I had still time at my disposal, to take a peep at 
that comparatively elevated range of meadows, which lie 
above the lower eminences to the right, and are diver- 
sified by many beautiful villages. Accordingly I turned 
sharp round to the right, and ascending gradually, foi- 



WILTAU. 



57 



lowed the course of a brook through the forest, and 
arrived in about an hour's time at Zambs ; a village 
perfectly Swiss in its style of architecture, situated in 
broken, but extremely fertile land, extending towards 
the base of the higher mountains. The church, with a 
tall spire, was as usual spacious and handsome, and 
the whole scene so enchanting, that I should have been 
tempted to spend the night here, had not the cabarets 
been so miserable. Having satisfied my curiosity, I 
retraced my footsteps to the village of Vels. 

It seems to be a common custom in Tyrol, whenever 
an accident in the open country has been attended with 
loss of life, to distinguish the locality by a more 
permanent memorial than usual in many southern 
countries. A regular shapely cross, of about six feet 
high, and carefully painted is erected. Underneath the 
angular roof which protects the head, a little picture is 
affixed in a wooden frame, pourtraying the manner of 
the accident. To this a copy of verses, either by way 
of epitaph, or in the form of a valedictory address of 
the sufferer to the traveller, is added. In a country 
where the storm and avalanche, floods and precipices, 
so greatly abound, these memorials may be supposed 
to be tolerably frequent. 

About eight in the evening I arrived at Wiltau, 
took a passing glance at the monastery and church, and 
finding an inn to my mind, took possession. 

May 19th. Wiltau is situated so near Inspruck 
that it may be said in some measure to form the 
suburb , and what between the clashing and jangling 
of some thirty or forty bells at a very early hour, and 
the rays of a cloudless sun darting upon the white- 



58 INSPRUCK. 

washed walls of my apartment from five uncurtained 
windows, further repose was out of the question. To 
rise and visit Inspruck was therefore my business. 

I seldom enter a town after a long period of moun- 
tain wandering, without a feeling of bewilderment. I 
must, however, attempt to retain some sketch of the 
capital of this romantic country. Its general position 
in a fertile plain watered by the Inn, and encircled by 
the mountains, has been already mentioned. The 
range to the north soars to a very considerable height, 
twelve or thirteen summits rising in the neighbourhood 
to between five and 8000 feet, and the Great Solstein 
over the Martins-wand to 9106 feet, above the level of 
the sea. The Iser springs on the northern acclivity of 
the latter, and from its summit, the view upon the 
plains of Bavaria is said to extend far beyond Munich. 

To the south the mountains bordering the valley and 
in advance of the main chain of the Alps, are less 
striking. 1 

Inspruck did not become the capital of Tyrol till the 
13th century, Meran in the southern Tyrol having held 
that distinction. The greater part of the town lies on 
the left bank of the Inn, consisting of one long and 
well built street, forming an angle of about fifty degrees 
with the river, and a mass of older streets disposed 
along the same. In the latter, arcades are frequent, 
and the houses are mostly whitewashed or painted. 
A wooden bridge leads to the suburb on the left bank. 
In the principal street or Neustrasse just mentioned, a 



1 Waldraster-Spitz, 7733— Patscher Kofel, 6348— Inspruck, 1325 feet 
above the sea. 



INSPRUCK. 59 

triumphal arch, and a fine column of red marble with 
numerous figures are both good objects. In the course 
of the morning, time was afforded for the examination 
of Vorstadt, the suburb of Hottingen beyond the 
bridge ; the church of St. Jacob, distinguished by two 
towers and a dome of dark marble ; the neighbourhood 
of the university and castle, and the garden of the latter. 
Strangers have generally their attention directed to the 
so-called House with the Golden Roof. This is the 
Chamber of Finance, and formerly a palace of the 
counts of Tyrol. The name arises from the lead of a 
portion of the roof being gilded. There is little in the 
city that may not be seen elsewhere ; but the contents 
of one edifice present a scene worthy of the notice of 
every traveller, and this must detain us a while. 

Nearly opposite the gate leading to the grand 
facade of the castle, stands the church dedicated to the 
Holy Cross. It was built by Ferdinand the First, and 
boasts no architectural beauty, but the scene presented 
by the interior is unusually imposing. When I stepped 
within it, the church was filled with that light vapoury 
haze, which, entering with the morning air, fills all 
the more remote parts of the building, and renders 
the light spread over the objects around, doubly 
faint and mysterious. In the centre of the main 
aisle, rises the mausoleum of the Emperor Maxi- 
milian, an astonishing work of art. His ashes repose 
under the ponderous tomb, upon the sides of which 
his great actions are detailed in a series of matchless 
basso-relievos; and the effigy kneels on the summit 
in the attitude of prayer, and the face turned to the 
high altar. 



60 INSPRUCK. 

On either side between the red marble columns that 
support the roof, and the altar screen, stand eight and 
twenty gigantic bronze statues, of the Princes of the 
house of Habsburg, and the illustrious Knights of 
Christendom. 

The noble proportions, elaborate art and workman- 
ship ; the curious specimens of ancient armour and cos- 
tume which they exhibit, and the charm which the 
names of many of them exercise over the imagination, 
in contemplating the characters and deeds of past 
times : — all conspire to render this scene a strangely 
interesting one. 

Besides Rudolph and his immediate issue, the eye 
meets with several of the illustrious princes of Europe, 
unconnected with the House of Habsburg. 

There stands Theodoric, King of the Goths, and 
Clovis, the first Christian King of France ; and as 
though for the express purpose of contrast, our own 
Arthur of England, a fine martial figure, stands with 
open beaver, between Duke Sigismund, with his heavy 
robes and heavier countenance on one side, and the 
grotesquely-armed Theopertius on the other. 

Few figures, in the midst of that crowded and impe- 
rial assemblage, strike the imagination more than the 
aged Godfrey of Bouillon, King of Jerusalem, standing 
erect, with the symbols of holy warfare spread over his 
shield, and blazoned upon his armour ; but instead of 
the kingly crown or helmet which decorate the major 
part of his neighbours, bearing upon his head his 
Master's twisted crown of thorns. Most of the statues 
bear the date 1513. A number of smaller are placed 
in niches over the altar screen, and though too high to 



WILTAU. 61 

be examined, are said to be distinguished by the beauty 
of the workmanship. 

The tomb of Philippine Welser, the loyal and meek- 
spirited wife of the imperial founder, is also seen in 
this edifice. 

In a corner of the same church, a little to the left of the 
main entrance, under a plain marble flag-stone let into the 
pavement, lie the ashes of Andrew Hofer ; a peasant, — 
but their proximity brings no dishonour to the imperial 
remains which repose under the same roof. It is fitting 
that this should be his resting place. In this church 
he celebrated that day of thanksgiving which goes by 
the name of ' Hofer's festival,' when in 1809 his native 
country was freed for a third time from a foreign yoke, 
and its capital again resounded with the name of Kaiser 
Franz ! a name, which in the war-cry and the prayer 
of the Tyrolese, always stood linked with Gott and 
Vaterland. 1 How little that proud distinction was 
merited, — the history of the Tyrol for the last twenty 
years will tell. But of this in another place. 

After a morning spent in making myself familiar 
with the general features of the town, I returned to 
Wiltau ; and as afternoon advanced, walked in the oppo- 
site direction to visit the church and cemetery of that 
village, said to be the most ancient in the vale of the 
Inn. It is supposed to be erected on the site of the 
ancient city of Valdidena. The history of Wiltau is 
so wonderfully intertwined with the deeds of the two 
Giants whose effigies ornament the facade, that up to 
this moment I have been unable to unravel it. The 

1 The Emperor Francis, God, and our country ! the war-cry of the 
Tyrolese. 



62 THE INNTHAL. 

church ; a fine building with two handsome towers, may 
be of very ancient foundation, but the present edifice 
does not seem to have claims to any great antiquity. 
A second noble church, with a single tower, stands 
a few paces from the one just mentioned, and is 
attached to the great monastery, whose enclosures 
extend far towards the foot of the advanced range 
of the hills to the south of the Inn. The Iselberg is 
here cleft by the passage of the Sill, which after a tor- 
tuous and impeded course in the mountains issues into 
the main valley, over a pretty cascade or wear. 

While wandering in the woods which cover these 
acclivities, an unexpected change was operated in my 
projects, and in consequence, a very different disposi- 
tion made of the remaining hours of daylight, than 
those I had anticipated in the morning. I considered 
that, as circumstances connected with the receipt of 
letters would require me to be at Inspruck four days 
hence, it would be advisable to make use of them to 
visit the Lower- Innthal, instead of whiling them away 
here, especially as fine settled weather was not to be 
left unimproved, and I consequently prepared to put 
this new idea in execution. 

I returned to my inn, made up a light packet of 
necessaries, consigned my knapsack to the safe custody 
of the damsel that bore the keys, left all further 
examination of Inspruck, till my return, and by the 
time that the jingling chimes of the church and monas- 
tery had sounded the fifth hour of the sun's decline, 
was in full speed down the valley, towards the town of 
Hall, which lies in the centre of the fertile plain, about 
two leagues down the opposite bank of the river. The 



HALL. 63 

main road runs on the left bank, but I preferred the 
rougher and more rural track, passing through Amras. 
This led me close along the base of the Iselberg, and un- 
der the hill upon which stands the old castle of Ambras. 
The collection of curiosities here was greatly celebrated. 
In the great hall were seen the effigies of two hundred 
mounted knights in full panoply, and the museum was 
rich in the antiquities and historical records of these 
countries. All however were removed to Vienna in 
1806. It is interesting to recollect that Wallen- 
stein was partially brought up here. I left the village 
of Ampas at some height above me, though my footway 
had insensibly led me above the level of the meadows, 
and did not begin to descend again before it had gained 
a considerable elevation. From the heights the view, 
on glancing back towards Inspruck, is very striking. 

Not intending to visit the town of Hall at this moment, 
I passed the end of the bridge, and held my way for- 
ward, through a line of pastures and meadows on the 
same bank, till I came unexpectedly upon the bridge, 
cloister, and singular church of Volders. A more 
picturesque object than the porch of the latter, over- 
shadowed by two noble trees springing up in the little 
inclosure before it, can seldom be seen. The style 
of architecture is truly barbaric, but it is far from 
being unpleasing. The cloister is a large square 
modern white- washed edifice, very indifferently garri- 
soned at present, as there are but three poor old 
monks within its precincts. They must feel like 
starved rats in an empty barn. 

I had now rejoined the main road, which here 
crosses to the right bank of the Inn, and by following it 



64 KOLSASS. 

for four or five miles further in its course down the vale, 
was led insensibly forward through the villages of Vol- 
ders, Wattens, and Trogen. In no country I ever visited, 
have I seen meadows clothed in such brilliant and 
splendid liveries as those on the banks of the Inn, at 
this season of the year. Instead of the different hues 
being intermingled, as in the enamelled meadows of 
my own distant home, they are here disposed in broad 
bands — each flower seems to have its bed, or to attach 
itself to a peculiar cultivation or soil, and a most 
singular disposition of the gorgeous hues is the con- 
sequence. At Kolsass I came to a halt : night having 
begun to darken around me, and the stars to twinkle 
over the mountains. 

I retain a delightful remembrance of the calm, 
which, spreading over the face of nature, during the 
last hours of my evening's walk, shed some portion 
of its peace and quiet upon my soul and spirits. There 
is a tranquillity in the mood of that hour, in the hues of 
natural objects, and the sounds and scenes of closing 
day, which I can never resist. It has soothed many a 
fit of mental impatience and disquiet, and I hope I 
shall never cease to be alive to and observant of it. 

There are few habits more essentially necessary to 
the enjoyment and comfort of a pedestrian traveller, 
than that of early rising : and there are few, which 
under all circumstances bring so certain a return of 
advantage. I will not here dilate upon the peculiar 
beauty of external nature at that hour, when the early 
grey gradually wakes into warmth and colour; or 
speak of the fresh feeling of enjoyment, both in body 



SCHWATZ. 65 

and soul, which he experiences whose feet brush away 
the heavy dews from the meadows. 

Even if your travel were an obligatory pilgrimage, 
instead of a mode by which you seek information, 
strength, and enjoyment, still you should study to be 
abroad long before the sun-beams descend from the 
mountain summits upon your path. 

Experience teaches, that eight or ten miles achieved 
in the freshness of the morning are productive of far 
less fatigue, than a like number in the latter part of the 
day : — that, if the weather be doubtful or tempestuous, 
and advance be an object, the hours immediately pre- 
ceding and following sunrise are the fairest in the four- 
and twenty ; — that a cool road, and absence of dust, are 
advantages which cannot be too highly estimated. Cus- 
tom is second nature, and what may be difficult at first, 
will become easy afterwards ; — more especially, if you 
happen frequently to be housed and entertained as I 
was at Kolsass ; where a dirty inn, wretched fare, a 
cross-grained hostess, and a bed with as many points 
and ridges as the Rhetian Alps, made me in haste to 
rise, and set forward with the early dawn. 

The town of Schwatz, which I reached after a few 
miles' walk, is situated at a point where the Inn 
washes, in its meanderings, the base of the southern 
chain of mountains. The latter rise here to a con- 
siderable height ; and display a line of steep broken 
declivities, partly forested, and partly chequered by 
pastures, mines, farms, and old mansions. On the 
opposite bank, the same open country as about Hall 
and Inspruck, interposes its cultivated level between 
the river and the opposite chain. It is worthy of 

F 



6Q SCHWATZ. 

remark, that soon after quitting Hall, the inferior 
range of eminences, which had been, till that point 
disposed along the base of the mountains to the right, 
change sides ; and appear along the base of the oppo- 
site chain, for many miles, terminating finally in the 
vicinity of Schwatz, by the so called Vomperberg. 

Schwatz is a considerable market-town, and was 
once celebrated for the silver mines in its neighbour- 
hood. It suffered the extremity of misery during the 
war in 1809, and its large population was reduced 
to the deepest poverty. The mines are now so unpro- 
ductive, that they are mostly abandoned by the imperial 
proprietor. 

From hence to Rattenberg, the Innthal fully sustains 
its character for the most noble and romantic mountain 
scenery. Innumerable villages, monasteries and cha- 
pels continue, as heretofore, to peep out of every 
corner of the broken ground at the foot of the moun- 
ntains. The river becomes navigable at Hall, and its 
rapid current is often seen impelling forward the 
crowded market-boat which plies between the towns on 
its bank, or the larger bark destined to transport the 
produce of the mountains to the great capital of the 
Empire. About four or five miles below Schwatz, the 
traveller passes through the hamlet of St. Margaret. 
Further down, the fine meadow-land on the river-side 
ceases to be a principal feature as heretofore; and, in 
general, from hence to Rattenberg and Kufstein the soil 
is not so well adapted for cultivation, as there is much 
alluvial ground, covered with sand and low bushes ; and 
continual abrupt knolls rise above the general level. 
Rattenberg is picturesque, and resembles Schwatz 



KUFSTKJN. 67 

very closely in point of situation. It is a strangely 
confused old place, overlooked by two ruinous castles, 
and squeezed close in upon the rocky mountain to the 
right, by the impetuous river which here sweeps 
upon its base. The entrance into the celebrated vale 
of the Ziller about two miles above Rattenberg, forms 
an interesting feature of the scenery. 

I will cut short a very hot day's march by a stride, 
which overstepping the villages of Kundl and Wbrgl, 
will bring me at a seasonable hour, to the little town of 
Kufstein, situated under the shelter of the miniature 
fortress of Geroldstein, not far from the N. E. limit of 
Tyrol, and near the spot, where, escaping from the 
thraldom of the higher mountains, the Inn, now a noble 
stream, turns to the north towards the fair plains of Ba- 
varia. I was agreeably disappointed by the scene in 
which this little rock, fortress, and town is situated. The 
summit of an isolated rock rising abruptly in a valley 
encircled by mountains, is seen crowned by a round 
tower, a few strong bastions, and the barracks of the 
garrison, while the white walls of the town situated 
at its foot are reflected in the surface of the river. 

The mountains to the south are savage and forested, 
but not happy in their outline. Towards Bavaria and 
to the eastward, the eminences are lower and their 
flanks well-cultivated. 

The female costume becomes more and more hideous. 
From Schwatz to Kufstein the most preposterous 
stockings prevail, being a long woollen cylinder of about 
four feet in length, without footing, which after being 
drawn on the leg, is rolled down, and disposed in broad 
round plaits or rings from the knee to the ancle, so that 

F 2 



68 THE INNTHAL. 

the fair sex seem at a distance to have been furnished 
with supports like those of the Hippopotomus. But 
this is not all. It would seem that as the rattle-snake 
gets an additional rattle to his tail every year, so the 
women of Schwatz add a fresh woollen petticoat every 
twelve months, such is their preposterous appearance : 
and all being short, they fly off from the waist in a 
marvellous manner. An old woman of the Lower Inn- 
thai looks like a walking mushroom. 

If my reader should ever follow my steps, I warn 
him, that for the greater part of this day's journey, 
much heat and fatigue may be avoided, and much 
additional enjoyment secured, by following the frequent 
bye-paths and footways which lead through the mea- 
dows between the road and the river, and that thus an 
atmosphere surcharged with heat and dust, may be 
exchanged for many miles together, for the fresh breath 
of the river, and perfume of flowers. But at the same 
time 1 must add a general caution. There is nothing so 
tempting to a pedestrian as the appearance of a gap in 
the wall or hedge bordering a long and dusty road, and 
the sight of a specious and plausible footway on the 
other side, running, as far as it is possible to judge, to 
the same end. You argue that the said footway can 
never surely lead you longer about, possibly may be 
exactly as long, but probably is much nearer ; in short, 
a ' short cut.' Now, my gentle friend, take my advice. 
Never let your wishes blind your wits ; for you must 
remember that these said short cuts are more likely to 
be thought of and descried, when actual circumstances 
would make them most desirable, than at any other 
time. If there be any mode of obtaining certain infor- 



THE INNTHAL. 69 

mation, make a duty of getting at the truth, however 
unnecessary the question may appear. If there is a 
cottage or a labourer at any moderate distance, go and 
inquire : — if an approaching traveller be within sight ; 
thank God, and sit down to wait his arrival : for, 
taking a supposed short cut is often a perilous adven- 
ture to one, whose every iota of time and strength and 
good temper are in serious requisition. I am convinced 
that this warning comes well, let the scene of your 
wanderings be where it may ; but most of all, in a 
region, where the surface displays such abrupt changes 
and insurmountable difficulties to free communication 
by direct lines from point to point, as in mountain dis- 
tricts. I am perhaps sanguine by disposition, and have 
often ventured upon a ' short-cut :' but long before I 
had learned to be wary and incredulous, I had walked 
many a league about, and had paid by many a leap, 
wade, climb, and scramble through furze and fen, for 
having doubted whether the vulgar saying, ' the short- 
est cut is the longest way home,' was a just one. 
These short-cuts from the high road of our travel seem 
to me to resemble speculation in the business of life : 
and as long as the fortunate result of either the one or 
the other can be referred to no better source of expec- 
tation than what is vulgarly called chance, I think they 
should both fall under the same condemnation ; and be 
esteemed unworthy of beguiling the footsteps of either 
a good pedestrian or a good christian. 

The little fortress of Kufstein is remarkable as 
having been the only place in the Tyrol which did not 
fall into the hands of the Tyrolese during the war of 



70 KUFSTEIN. 

1809. It was besieged, for a considerable time, and 
with much perseverance, by a party of peasants under 
Speckbacher, a man, to whose constancy and bravery 
during the whole of that eventful period, scarcely suffi- 
cient justice has been done. They did all that human 
ingenuity and bravery, unaided by artillery, could effect ; 
destroyed the flottilla, under the very walls of the for- 
tress ; cut off supplies, and planned one surprize after 
another, till compelled by the course of events to 
abandon the siege. 

I quitted Kufstein early and retraced my steps with- 
out any adventure worthy of note. About noon I 
arrived at Brixlegg, a village a little above Rattenberg. 
After a couple of hours' halt, to allow the excessive 
heat to subside, I continued my walk, and diverged 
from my yesterday's route, after passing the small 
bridge over the Zillerbach, by turning to the south, into 
the Zillerthal, the noble entrance to which shows a long 
vista between the mountains leading up towards the 
central Alps. 

The point of junction of the Zillerthal with the main 
valley, is overspread with alluvial deposits brought 
down in time of flood ; and through the thickets of alder 
and barberry which cover them, I picked my way for 
a couple of miles, till I joined the main road leading up 
the valley at the village of Schlitters. 

I wished to have reached the principal village of 
Zell ; but a slight indisposition caused by long exposure 
to the suffocating heat made an early termination of the 
day's journey desirable. I, however, passed the village 
of Figen, and finally came to a halt in the hamlet of 
Ried, at the door of a pretty inn, just as a menacing 



THE ZILLERTHAL. 71 

thunderstorm following the course of the Inn, seemed to 
make a stand at the entrance of this valley, and meditate 
a diversion into its recesses. I here spent an evening 
which I long remember for its calmness and tranquillity. 
How sweet, after hours of pain, to become conscious 
of its gradual cessation. As I sat in the fresh open 
air, sheltered under the spreading roof from the partial 
showers which the thunderstorm every now and then sent 
forward as though to herald its nearer approach, I was 
fully alive to all that sublimity which accompanies the 
progress of these awful phenomena in mountainous coun- 
tries. About six o'clock, the clouds began to sweep for- 
ward, to shroud the nearer mountains, and the thunder, 
to roll nearer and louder every peal. Yet then, while 
heaven and earth in general seemed to sympathize with 
the coming tempest — the sky over our head ragged and 
threatening, the wind gusty, the leaves of the trees 
motionless and agitated by turns, and the approaching 
vapour blending both valley and mountain into one dis- 
mally blue and uncertain hue— three things seemed to 
speak nothing but calm : the vesper-bells sounding 
from numberless churches and chapels through the 
valley ; — a group of peasant girls at labour in the field, 
who stood up for a few moments with bended heads 
repeating the ave maria, and then continued their la- 
bour ; and lastly, the snowy mountains at the head of 
the valley, reflecting in their elevated solitude, the red 
beams of the setting sun. 

On the following morning I resumed my walk up the 
valley as far as Zell. Beyond this village it was 
hardly desirable to proceed at this early period of the 
year, though the extreme head of the valley extends 



72 THE ZILLERTHAL. 

full thirty miles higher into the Alps. The snow- line in 
the mountains was still far too low down to allow a hope 
that the vegetation in the higher parts of the country 
was even tolerably advanced, and excursions among 
the glaciers were out of the question. Of the quarter 
of the Tyrol which had hitherto come within my obser- 
vation, it appeared to me that this valley was the most 
thoroughly Swiss in its outlines and general character. 
I allude to its resemblance with the more fertile and 
productive portions of the Swiss Alps, and not of the 
glaciers. The middle pastures may be descried from the 
vale, sprinkled with chalets ; whereas, in general, they are 
few on the mountain sides in the Inn thai, and generally 
speaking, that is a class of pasturage which does not 
seem attached to the Rhetian Alps. The inhabitants, 
and especially the males, are deservedly distinguished, 
even among the Tyrolese, for their manly beauty. Rear- 
ing cattle is the principal occupation in the Zillerthal. 
From the upper part of this fine valley, a foot- way 
traverses the glaciers into one of the diverging vallies 
of the Pusterthal, and from Zell ; another passes into 
the Pinzgau or valley of the Salzach, in the extreme 
east of Tyrol. 

In returning I made but a short halt at Reid, 
during which, however, a strolling band of musicians 
came and set the whole population of the hamlet in 
motion, for it seems that the Tyrolese are wonderfully 
fond of harmony, however rude. This was of the 
rudest, for the leader was a performer on the pans-pipe, 
and seemed to have been so long and so zealously 
addicted to this instrument that he had gradually 
shaven off the greater part of his chin and under-lip. 



THE ZILLERTHAL. 73 

In the course of the afternoon I returned down the 
valley into the Innthal, and regained the town of 
Schwatz at sun-set, visiting some of the deserted 
mines by the way. 

From Schwatz, an early walk of three hours, 
brought me to the bridge and monastery of Volders : 
and here, I made a second deviation from the general 
line of my return up the vale of the Inn, by quitting 
the vicinity of the river altogether ; turning short 
round to the left, and pursuing a footway, leading up 
to the hills, towards the village of Rinn. 

I will not believe that any stranger, whose good 
fortune permits him to wander over the surface of this 
romantic country, can do so, without turning his 
thoughts, from time to time to that fierce struggle of 
which it was the scene during the late war ; the 
extraordinary fluctuations of which made it an object 
of interest and admiration to the surrounding nations. 
Twenty years have gone by since those alternate days 
of triumph and distress. The fields of the Inn have 
long ago resumed their fertility, and again pour forth 
their abundance into the hands that till them ; — the 
trace of the fosse and barricade have disappeared from 
the roads ; — the brawling cascade now tells no tale of 
the day when its tinged waters bore from hamlet to 
village, a fearful token of the mountain-strife ; and the 
green moss has overspread with its fresh carpet 
the fragments of rock, which then rushed downward 
like a cataract of stone, upon the stranger and invader. 
Most of the principal actors too, have within this limited 
period, been laid in peace beneath the green turf of 
their native country. 



74 THE I1SNTHAL. 

A well- authenticated and detailed history of the 
war of 1809 is yet a desideratum, and many circum- 
stances lead me to believe that to supply this, will be 
a very difficult matter. It was to be supposed that the 
annals of France, Bavaria, and Austria, would give 
very different accounts of this episode in their mutual 
warfare : but while the two former of these have written 
like enemies, the latter has not written as a friend : for 
it felt, that to publish the knowledge of the truth, was 
to publish its own shame. The Tyrolese have but few 
authors amongst them, and it appears that the Imperial 
interdict prevented the publication of a chronicle pre- 
pared by Baron Hormayr. 

There are three names which should be placed 
in the first rank, among the number of those brave 
and devoted men who stood forward in defence 
of their country — three men, whose constancy appears 
to have been rarely influenced during the whole of that 
six months trial, either by the desertion of friends 
or triumph of enemies — and these men are Hofer, 
Speckbacher, and Haspinger. — Other names are wor- 
thy of remembrance, but the interest attached to them 
is of a more partial nature. Places and circumstances 
will suggest the introduction of sketches of one or the 
other of the individuals mentioned, and of the warfare 
in which they were engaged. 

To-day the subject of remembrance must be Joseph 
Speckbacher, in quest of whose former habitation upon 
the mountains to the left, I now quitted the high road. 

A line of finely-broken country, intersected by many 
by-paths, interposed, however, considerable impedi- 
ments to my effecting my purpose : — and it was not 



THE 1NNTHAL. VO 

till after an hour's exertion, that T reached a cottage 
about a mile from the village of Rinn, from the inhab- 
itants of which I gained some information, as to the 
position of the dwelling which T was in search of, 
and the fate of its former inhabitants. 

Of the decease of Speckbacher himself in 1820, I 
was aware ; but not of the circumstance, that his family 
had quitted their property upon the mountains, and 
retired to the town of Hall. 

Their former residence had still, however, charms for 
me, and having received my instructions, I proceeded to 
it. It appears to stand nearer to the hamlet of Juden- 
stein, than the village of Rinn, to which, however, it is 
nominally attached. It may be inferred from what I 
have before stated, that these villages lie upon the 
hills at the base of the superior chain. Behind them 
rises the Patscher-kofel, a high mountain, remarkable 
for its position overlooking the vallies of the Inn and 
the Sill, and for the peculiar appearance of its summit, 
terminating in a vast tumulus, which, according to the 
wild tradition of the country, bears high into the clouds 
and towards the stars, the ashes of a giant. 

Speckbacher's house, a substantial Swiss-looking 
cottage, is situated among the meadows upon the hill 
side, apart from all others. The stables are seen half 
buried in trees upon a ridge a little behind the house, 
while from the front a most extensive view of the Inn- 
thai displays itself ; extending westward for eight or 
ten leagues beyond Inspruck ; and eastward, yet more 
distinctly, to the immediate neighbourhood of Kufstein. 
The town of Hall and the river below, are hidden by 
the broken flanks of the mountain ; while a forest of 



76 THE INNTHAL. 

larches, interposing between the hamlet of Judenstein 
and the house, throws about the spot a greater air of 
solitude than it really possesses. A glorious scene, 
such as delights the eye of a stranger, and which, no 
doubt, often moved the heart of the brave and daring 
patriot in his day to yet deeper feeling ! 

There is no place so fitting to recal his memory, as 
that rural seat upon which I now sit, sheltered from 
the sun-beams by the shadow of the roof of his home, 
and in the face of that beautiful and majestic country 
for which he fought. 

Joseph Speckbacher was born at Gnadenwald, a 
village in this neighbourhood, in the year 1768. His 
father, at that time, had a contract to supply wood for 
the salt-works at Hall, and supported his family with 
credit till his death, which happened when the subject 
of this notice was but six years old. The mother of the 
family soon followed to the grave ; but nevertheless, 
Speckbacher seems to have had considerable care be- 
stowed on him in early life by his near relatives, and to 
have been sent to school with a view to the attainment 
of instruction suited to his future prospects. At this 
period, however, he could never be taught either to 
read or write. His active mind and body had other 
sources of emulation. There was a pursuit to which 
the young Tyrolese of his day were devoted with a 
passion far transcending that lavished on any other 
youthful pleasure, to gratify which there was no risk 
and no sacrifice which was not recklessly encountered, 
and this was the chase, or as we should rather say in 
plain English, poaching. 

Young Speckbacher had rendered himself remark- 



THE INNTHAL. 77 

able as a boy by the fearlessness of his disposition and 
the nervous activity of his person. It is upon record 
that as a child he had attacked a L'ammergeyer which 
had pounced on his flock, and though single-handed 
brought it off as his prize, despite the resistance of that 
powerful alpine vulture. He possessed a piercing 
glance and a steady hand, and throwing aside the pen 
in disgust, the rifle became his inseparable companion. 
At the early age of twelve years, he was by his natural 
taste and the society of congenial companions, carried 
away from his home and duty in pursuit of an illicit 
pleasure. 

The wild mountains and forests clothing the Bavarian 
frontiers, seem to have been the principal scene of his 
wanderings ; and it is supposed that the extraordinary 
knowledge of the surface of the country, which he was 
found to possess in later life, was the result of this 
season of lawless existence and adventure. That the 
charm was a strong one is not to be denied. The 
alternate success which accompanied their chase of the 
roe, and other schemes of depredation upon the hated 
Bavarians, and the excitement produced by escape 
from imminent peril and frequent pursuit, led him for- 
ward from bad to worse, till he was suddenly arrested 
by seeing one of his companions shot before his eyes 
by a chasseur. This seems to have sobered him com- 
pletely ; he returned home, and sat down quietly in his 
native valley in pursuit of his father's business. 

At the age of twenty-seven, he married Maria 
Schmeider, and through her came into possession of a 
small property at Rinn, and of the cottage where we now 
sit. For love of her, he seems to have conquered his 



78 THE INNTHAL. 

repugnance to letters, and to have learned to read 
and write. He reaped the advantage of the acquisition 
in later life. 

But it is not my intention to follow him step 
by step. Time moved onwards — war arose, and the 
sound of the tremendous conflicts which were waging 
in the plains on every side, soon began to echo loudly 
among the steep and rugged Alps of Tyrol. Army 
after army of their Austrian brethren poured along 
their vallies and over their mountains into the plains 
of Friuli and Lombardy, and were continually augmented 
by the willing hearts and arms of the faithful Tyrolese. 
And when the scattered and dispirited remnants of 
those armed masses returned weary and dispirited up 
the great valley of the Adige after defeat, the Tyrolese 
received them not the less kindly; but spread his 
board for their refreshment and tended their sick and 
wounded. 

But the worst had still to come. Austria had at first 
fought in defence of her dependancies, but had soon to 
struggle for her own existence. She struggled in vain — 
and by the treaty of Presberg in Dec. 1805, the Tyro- 
lese, as yet unsubdued, and in their own mountains 
invincible, were given over to the detested rule of 
Bavaria. In this transfer, some respect to their virtue 
and valour was paid by the victors, as it was expressly 
stipulated and solemnly promised, that they should retain 
their former institutions and government inviolate. 
But these were forgotten. — The ancient constitution 
was undermined — the representative body annihilated 
— new and vexatious taxation introduced, public funds 
and ecclesiastical property confiscated ; and oppression, 



THE INNTHAL. 79 

resulting both from public ordinances and private 
aggression was the daily lot of the Tyrolese. 

These things alone, without taking into account the 
romantic affection borne by the inhabitants of these 
mountains for the Emperor, were surely sufficient to 
have roused them up to shake off the yoke thus im- 
posed upon them. It is true that many of the leading 
men connected with the larger towns were brought 
over to the Bavarian interest ; but that did not prevent 
the silent and almost unsuspected organization of an 
insurrection among a great body of the peasantry, 
chiefly during the latter part of the winter and the 
spring of 1809. 

The leaders of the insurrection opened a correspond- 
ence with the archduke John, then in Carniola, and 
with Marquis Chastelar, at Klagenfurt ; and received 
encouragement and promises of assistance from the 
Emperor. 

Hofer, who had already been put forward by the priests 
and others as a principal chief, had known Speckbacher 
prior to this epoch, and appreciating the energy and 
fire of his character, confided in a great measure to him 
the duty of organizing the insurrection in the vale of 
the Inn. In pursuance of this commission he had 
shewn great prudence and zeal, and by the end of the 
first week in April, when Austria suddenly declared 
war against France, every thing was ripe for the general 
revolt. 

In Tyrol the first blow was struck in the Pusterthal, 
on the tenth of this month, at the bridge of St. Lorenzen, 
which, the Bavarians,* hearing that a movement was 
intended by the Austrian regulars in the valley of the 



80 THE INNTHAL. 

Drave, attempted to destroy. The peasantry how- 
ever, rose en masse, and overcoming all resistance, 
drove the Bavarians down the Pusterthal to the valley 
of the Eisack. Here, though reinforced by a French 
column of 3000 men passing through the Tyrol, on 
their way to Augsburg, they were, during the course 
of the three following days, completely dispersed by the 
exasperated peasantry and their Austrian allies. Two 
thousand of the French who retreated southward to 
Botzen were there made prisoners ; and the remainder, 
including the Bavarian troops, were forced to retreat 
with great loss to Sterzing, at the foot of the Brenner, 
where after an obstinate resistance, they also sur- 
rendered. 

In the mean time the peasantry of the valley of the 
Inn had risen upon their oppressors. The night between 
the 9tk and 10th of April was fraught with fearful 
augury to the Bavarian troops in the towns of Inspruck 
and Hall. Early in the night, Speckbacher had gathered 
together a small body of the Landsturm, and made a 
successful attack upon the monastery and the bridge 
over the Inn at Volders, which were occupied by a 
Bavarian forepost. Then advancing by a circuitous 
route with his little body of comrades towards Hall, 
they concealed themselves near one of the gates, and 
awaited the dawn. 

As though by enchantment, the appearance of one 
high volume of flame, which arose at midnight in the 
direction of the Patscher-kofel, had been followed by 
the boding glare of numerous signal-fires from the 
mountains on either side, whose flickering and uncertain 
light was dimly pictured upon the surface of the river. 



THE INNTHAL. 81 

At the, same time the night-air resounded with the 
harsh and dissonant clash and chime of innumerable 
bells, spreading the alarm far and near. 

As soon as morning light stole over the landscape, 
the gates of Hall were opened, and the little armed 
band, rushing from their ambush, forced their way into 
the town, and drove the Bavarians, after a slight 
resistance, over the bridge. 

The remainder of the day was occupied by the 
Tyrolese in augmenting their numbers, and in various 
skirmishes with the patrols sent forward from Inspruck 
to reconnoitre. On the following morning, they mustered 
to the number of 20,000 round about that city, drove in 
the out-posts on every side, and dislodged the Bavarian 
troops from the upper bridge over the Inn. A general 
attack upon the city followed. It was garrisoned by the 
regiment of General Kinkel, aided by some cavalry and 
light troops : and the general, who was there in person, 
was ably seconded in the defence by the officers under 
his command. Nothing, however, could withstand the 
overpowering attack of the exasperated mountaineers, 
and before evening, they had full possession of the 
capital of their country. 

The exultation of the peasantry at this triumph, 
knew no bounds. During the remaining hours of the 
day, the streets and public places re-echoed with the 
exulting cries of the victors, and the name of the 
Emperor. The churches were, at the same time, 
crowded with such as assembled to return thanks to 
God for this victory. A singular circumstance combined 
to raise the patriotic and devotional enthusiasm, which 
distinguished the Tyrolese throughout the whole of this 



82 THE INNTHAL. 

war, to an extraordinary pitch. Among the Bavarian 
officers in Inspruck was Colonel Dittfurt, a man of a 
bold and uncompromising disposition, and of dis- 
tinguished military reputation. He was believed to 
have been one of the main causes of the separation of 
the Tyrol from Austria, and for this reason was detested 
by the peasantry. Moreover having been sent early 
in the year into the Fliemsthal, to enforce the new 
system of recruiting set on foot by the Bavarians, but 
resisted by the Tyrolese, he committed divers excesses, 
and added to the measure of deep hatred, which was 
treasured up against him till this day of retribution. 
At Inspruck, he saw too late what was the real 
character of the peasantry he had despised and op- 
pressed : and, escape being impossible, resolved to die 
with honour. He fought in the streets with desperate 
valour, and though pierced with four balls, still urged 
resistance. Even when in the hands of the Tyrolese 
he continued to rave with impotent wildness over 
schemes of vengeance, and modes of defending the 
country. But the circumstance particularly alluded to, 
was the folllowing : — that, while lying faint and bleed- 
ing in the guard-house, whither he had been conveyed 
after capture, he suddenly turned to the by-standers, 
and asked with solemnity, who it was that headed the 
Tyrolese in their attack? Upon being told that the 
peasants had had no particular chief, but had combated, 
each and all, for God, the Emperor, and their homes ; 
the wounded man insisted that this could not be, for 
that he had frequently seen their leader pass him in the 
melee, upon a white charger. Upon this wild expres- 
sion, the enthusiastic fancy of the peasantry immediately 



THE INNTHAL. 83 

raised the belief, that they had really been headed by- 
one of the blessed saints, visible to their foes, though 
invisible to them, and were more than ever convinced 
of the holiness and justice of their cause. 

Though Inspruck was in the hands of the peasantry, 
the work of deliverance was however not yet achieved. 
Early the following morning, the alarm-bells gave 
information of the approach of an enemy, a strong 
column of French and Bavarians having been observed 
descending from the Brenner. They soon made their 
appearance on the Iselberg, under the command of 
Generals Wrede and Bisson. The advanced guard 
attempting to enter the town, were driven back with 
great loss, and the whole division then took up a 
position between the hills and the city. Here they 
were in the course of the next twenty-four hours, 
completely surrounded by the victorious peasantry from 
both sides of the Brenner, and the Austrian detachment 
under General Chastelar ; and after some hesitation 
were forced to surrender. 

This summary contains a sketch of the principal 
events which marked the first expulsion of the French 
and Bavarians from the Tyrol in 1809. They continued 
to occupy portions of Southern Tyrol, and especially 
the city of Trent, till after the 22nd of April, when 
that city was evacuated by the French in consequence 
of the news of the Archduke John's victory at Sacile. 
In the North, the little fortress of Kufstein alone 
held out. But the same success which was awarded 
to the Tyrolese in their first struggle, did not attend 
the operations of the main Austrian armies, either 
in Germany or Italy. 

G 2 



84 THE INNTHAL. 

The defeats at Landshut and Ratisbon, and the 
retreat of Jellachich towards the frontier of Salzburg, 
left Northern Tyrol in an unprotected state. The 
Archduke was also forced to retire from the Veronese, 
hotly pursued by Prince Eugene; and the French 
Generals Rusca and d'Hilliers, who had but just before 
quitted the Tyrolese frontier, ascended the vale of the 
Adige. In the first days of May, matters seemed 
wavering, and partial successes gave hopes that the for- 
tune of war might yet be in favour of Austria. Attempts 
were made to stimulate the inhabitants of Salzburg and 
the ValTelline, to join in a regularly organized defence 
of their mountains. But the advance of the Duke of 
Dantzic rendered all these efforts nugatory, and the 
defeat of the Austrian regulars at Wbrgl on the 13th 
of May, left Inspruck and its charming valley once 
again open to the French and Bavarians. The remnant 
of the Austrians with the Marquis Chastelar, were 
forced to retreat over the Brenner, and the enemy ad- 
vancing up the Innthal, re-entered Inspruck on the 17th. 

The Tyrolese throughout this struggle in defence 
of their country, and in the cause of their lawful 
sovereign, had behaved with moderation and humanity 
in the hour of victory. The march of their enemies on 
the contrary, from Wbrgl to Inspruck was marked by 
unjustifiable cruelty and excess. The whole of that 
glorious valley at our feet, now smiling with luxuriant 
vegetation, and rejoicing in the spring, was then, at this 
very season, converted into one widely deformed and 
desolate field of ravage and destruction. The villages 
and hamlets were given to the flames ; and such of 
the population as escaped the wanton sword of their 



THE 1NNTHAL. 85 

invaders, were driven forth like sheep to herd upon the 
mountains. 

The destruction of Schwatz was complete. A ter- 
rible wind arose the evening" after the fire had been 
first communicated, and the flames extending from the 
suburbs to the town, the whole was reduced to a heap 
of ashes. 

But I must here pause in my historical sketch ; the 
shadows on the mountains opposite are growing broader 
and broader, and further advance must be made ere 
nightfall. There are before us many localities where a 
continuation of this subject may be appropriately 
introduced ; as well as some allusion to the adventures 
of the individual, the tale of whose early life I have 
briefly narrated. 

The town of Hall, to which I descended in the 
course of the afternoon, is irregularly built, but con- 
tains some ancient edifices. It derives its principal 
importance from the salt-works. It had formerly a 
mint, the machinery of which was worked by water. 
The salt is brought from the Salzberg, at the dis- 
tance of several miles in the chain to the northward. 
It is not found pure, but in an earthy stratum. The 
produce of the mine is thrown into pits or tanks, from 
which a strongly impregnated brine flows off and 
descends by pipes to Hall, where it is received into 
boilers, and the salt obtained by evaporation. The 
mines must still be valuable ; and once yielded to the 
Emperor a clear annual revenue of 200,000 rix dollars. 
The great church is a large and handsome edifice. 
To the right of the west entrance, a little round the 
corner, a plain tablet marks the place of sepulture of 



86 HALL. 

Speckbacher. His worldly prospects were ruined by 
the waste and neglect they had suffered during the war ; 
and his health undermined by the great hardships he had 
undergone. He removed with his family from Binn to 
Hall where he died at the age of fifty- two, and was 
interred with the honours of a major in 1820. 

I sought out his widow and family, using the name 
of an English friend, as an introduction, and spent two 
hours most agreeably in their society. The widow is 
is a good homely woman, verging upon old age, and 
the two daughters still with her, handsome, sensible 
girls. A third was absent. Of the sons, the eldest, 
Andrew, who followed his father in one or two of 
expeditions as a mere boy, was taken prisoner by the 
Bavarians, and was educated with care by the King of 
Bavaria's orders at Munich. He now occupies an 
official situation in a neighbouring village. — The second 
son, a spirited young man, lives with his mother and 
sisters. This worthy family seemed desirous to acknow- 
ledge by kindness to me, their sense of the general 
sympathy and interest testified towards them by my 
countrymen. They showed me their little stock of 
relics, the father's portrait, and books — the gold chain 
and medal given by the Emperor, a rosary given by his 
Holiness the Pope, and were very pressing that I 
should contrive to come and pass a few days at Hall. 
The mother had shown herself throughout the painful 
circumstances in which she had been placed during 
the war, to be a woman of strong mind and conduct ; 
and though she has many difficulties to struggle with, 
seems to be going gently, and contentedly down the 
vale of years. 



THE INNTHAL. 87 

Their son was my companion during the major part 
of my evening walk to Inspruck ; and I quitted him 
with a feeling, that I was honoured by the acquaintance 
I had made. 

I entered my inn at nightfall, after an absence of 
four days, and found my effects in safe keeping. The 
damsel looked half-pleased, and half- disappointed at 
my arrival, having doubtless calculated upon being 
residuary legatee, in case I had never returned. 

May 14tth. — What traveller among you has re- 
ceived a packet of letters from your dear and distant 
home, without a trembling hand and heart, and, in 
opening it, experienced that pain and pleasure, dis- 
appointment and surprise, always travel in company. 
Amongst other resolves, not interesting to the 
reader, that of the prosecution of my journey south- 
ward, without further delay, was taken upon the 
perusal of the packet in question: and the greater 
portion of this day, was occupied in making those dis- 
positions which would enable me to do so on the 
morrow. The weather was insufferably hot, from the 
prevalence of a wind from the S.S.E. which is in 
fact the sirrocco. It rushes down from the southern 
chain into the valley of the Inn in violent gusts ; 
raising the dust in clouds, shaking the window-frames, 
and causing ennui, the spleen, and whole host of 
vapours, to enter into the heart of an Englishman. 
Most strangers find themselves disagreeably affected 
by it. It identifies itself with the Fbn and Uberre 
of the Swiss and Savoy Alps. 

But before quitting the Innthal, I have a few gen- 
eral remarks to make. This noble vale contains within 



88 INSPRUCK. 

its limits, three hundred and twenty villages and 
hamlets, besides numerous castles and convents. Its 
general features may have been sufficiently detailed. 
The style of architecture in the farms, upper villages 
and hamlets, is decidedly Swiss. Though the towns 
are not Italian in their general appearance, they 
exhibit some affinity to the taste of that country in 
the style of their buildings. The village churches, in 
general, are distinguished for their extraordinary size, 
and the care evinced in their erection and adorn- 
ment. White plaster is the fashion every- where; 
and most houses in the larger villages are de- 
corated exteriorly with rude fresco paintings of 
saints, warriors, angels, and various other devices. 
The interior disposition of the apartments is tolerably 
convenient. I cannot call the people in general a 
cleanly race : for though I believe the chairs and tables 
may obtain a good scrubbing now and then, the floors 
of their apartments, whether above or below, certainly 
remain destitute of that advantage from the moment 
they are laid down, to the day they separate into 
splinters. Sawdust is sprinkled upon them, and they 
are swept, and this seems to be considered sufficient. 

The men are neither tall nor very muscular, but 
lightly and actively built, and are a fine race upon the 
whole, especially the inhabitants of the Zillerthal : they 
shew also the best taste in their costumes. The greater 
part of the Innthal is wholly agricultural and pastoral : 
very little manufacture appears to be going forward, 
except about Rattenberg, and in the lower part of the 
Zillerthal, where a considerable quantity of coarse black 
woollen cloth for home consumption, is woven by the 



INSPRUCK.. ©y 

loom in the cottages. The dairy seems to be under- 
valued, the cheese throughout being fabricated of skim 
milk, and too bad to be palatable to a stranger. 

To the traveller who wanders into these Alps from 
those of Switzerland, the general absence of express 
accommodation for strangers will perhaps cause a 
momentary disagreeable surprise : — this however is far 
more than outweighed by the comparatively trifling 
expence to which he is subjected, and the utter absence 
of all imposition and rapacious obsequiousness in the 
conduct of those, upon whose kindness and courtesy he 
is thrown for entertainment. 

But I must bid adieu to Inspruck. As the evening 
drew on, I entered again into the church of the Holy 
Cross. The evening service was just concluding ; and 
as I stood beneath the shadow of the mausoleum, I 
was struck by observing the affection to the memory 
of poor Hofer, shown by most of the peasants who 
retired from the church. Few passed the dusky corner 
in which he lies, without stepping aside, after immersing 
their fingers in the vase of holy water, to sprinkle the 
place of his sepulture. 



CHAPTER III. 



' Low on the mountain side 
The fleecy vapour hung, and in its veil 
With all their dreadful preparations wrapt 
The Mountaineers : — in breathless hope they lay, 
Some blessing God in silence, for the power 
This day vouchsafed : others with fervency 
Of prayer and vow, invoke the Mother-maid, 
Beseeching her that in this favouring hour 
She would be strongly with them. From below 
Meantime they heard distinct the passing tramp 
Of horse and foot, continuous as the sound 
Of Deva's stream, and barbarous tongues commixt 
With laughter and with frequent shouts ; — for all 
Exultant came, expecting sure success ; 
Blind wretches ! over whom the ruin hung.' 



The Pass of the Brenner, over which our route 
now leads us, traverses the main chain of the Alps 
in a direction due south from Inspruck. On this 
side, it is reached by following the course of the Sill 
to its source ; and on the other, by the long ravine 
of the Eisack. The height of the ridge between these 
vallies is but 4700 feet, and consequently the lowest in 
the central chain of the Alps. 

The Brenner seems to have been made use of at a 
very early epoch, as a passage to Italy; some sup- 
posing that Brennus and the Gauls traversed it nearly 
four hundred years before the Christian era. It was 
certainly well known in the time of Augustus, when 
the Romans penetrated into these fastnesses, and 



THE BRENNER. 91 

subdued the various tribes inhabiting- this portion of 
the Rhetian Alps. 

However this may be, four irruptions of the 
northern Gothic tribes into Italy, by the pass of the 
Brenner, are upon record, previous to the descent 
of Attila, who, in his passage down the vale of the 
Adige, wasted Southern Tyrol with fire and sword. 

Four and twenty years after, Odoacer followed in 
the same track ; and before the end of the fifth cen- 
tury, Theodoric and the Ostragoths sought a similar 
passage to the southward. 

In later times, the route in question was justly 
considered of the highest importance to Austria, both 
in a commercial and military point of view; as it 
afforded the means of entering Italy at all seasons, 
with little or no risk, and was in fact the key to that 
country. 

On the morning of the 26th, I resumed my knap- 
sack and alpenstock, and turned my face to the south- 
ward. The hot wind was still blowing with violence ; 
the high road was a perfect purgatory, from the clouds 
of dust flying across it ; which the huge waggon 
trains, traversing the mountains by scores, aggravated 
in no small degree. Leaving the Iselberg to the left, 
the road to the Brenner begins to ascend the inferior 
hills immediately behind the Abbey of Wiltau. 

This part of the country has in a measure become 
holy ground in the eyes of the Tyrolese. Upon the 
Iselberg and the enclosures at its foot, extending 
around the Abbey of Wiltau towards the Inn, several 
battles, decisive of the fate of Tyrol for the time, were 
gained by the peasantry in 1809 ; and it is easy to sym- 



92 THE BRENNER. 

pathize with them, when, towards the close of the war, 
surrounded by foes and deserted by the Austrians, 
they cast their eyes towards this field of battle, and 
attempted to make their last stand upon it, believing 
that here they must be invincible. 

The road before us is long and dusty, we will there- 
fore while away a few minutes by again turning our 
attention and thoughts to the history of that time. Our 
last notice comprised the events from the first week 
in April till the re- entrance of the Bavarians into 
Inspruck on the 19th of May. It is surprising, that 
the latter suffered six days to pass by from the affair 
of Wbrgl without engaging in more energetic opera- 
tions, and that moreover after taking possession of 
Inspruck, they made no attempts for upwards of a 
week to secure the passage of the Brenner. It is 
supposed, that the absence of intelligence from the 
army in the north was the principal reason ; as many 
Tyrolese insurgents continued to hold themselves in 
arms in the mountains, and to intercept all dispatches. 
In the mean time, Marquis Chastelar, after much inde- 
cision, resolved finally to quit Tyrol, and General Buol 
who commanded the vanguard of the Austrians, and 
was posted upon the heights of the Brenner, was with 
difficulty persuaded by the prayers and tears of Hofer 
and the more energetic measures of his first Lieutenant 
Eisensteckken, to remain and make a second attempt 
with the Tyrolese to drive the Bavarians out of the 
country. 

The peasantry were many of them dispirited, by the 
impression that the Austrians would abandon them. 
They had felt extremely exasperated against Chastelar, 



THE BRENNER. 93 

for the defeat at Wbrgl, in which they had had but 
little part. Hormayr, the imperial intendant was also 
suspected by them to be but half-hearted in the cause ; 
and in this state of mind, and with no prospect of 
immediate action, it was impossible to keep them to- 
gether. Indeed, throughout this whole war the greatest 
difficulty experienced by their leaders, was to make 
them submit in any degree to military discipline. They 
would flock together with cheerfulness at the sound of 
the alarm-bell, and at the sight of the beacon-fire, 
fight with ardour ; — but if a pause occurred in the 
battle, if night or storm separated the combatants, or 
if their efforts were blessed with partial success — it 
was no matter however important it might be to keep 
the advantage gained, and guard against surprize ; — 
the Tyrolese ranks were sure to dwindle away like a 
snow-wreath. They spread themselves over the 
country,— filled the cabarets ; feasted together : and 
many, with the best conscience in the world, hastened 
away to their homes in the mountains, to refresh them- 
selves, and tell the news to their wives and neighbours. 
The same improvidence marked all their proceedings. 
At a time when, as at this epoch, ammunition was 
alarmingly scarce both among the Austrians on the 
Brenner, and with the Landsturm — the Tyrolese 
peasantry were as usual, marrying, baptizing and 
feasting, and expending their gunpowder mfeux-de-joie, 
without the slightest forethought of the consequence 
of that heedless extravagance. These remarks are 
necessary, to make the reader better comprehend the 
true character of the force brought to act against the 
regular and disciplined bands of Bavaria 



94 THE BRENNER. 

As the month of May drew to a close, the Bavarian 
General Deroy received orders from the Duke of 
Dantzic to pursue Chastelar, who was now in the valley 
of the Drave. The Tyrolese major, Teimer, had 
crossed from the upper vale of the Adige, or Vintsghaw, 
into the Upper- Innthal, and now descended that valley 
with a body of insurgents. 

Speckbacher, though watched by the Bavarians, had 
re-organized a second rising in the Lower- Innthal. 
General Buol remained inactive on the Brenner, with 
2400 regulars. On the 25th, an engagement took 
place on the Iselberg, which however had no decisive 
termination, as the combatants were separated in the 
afternoon by a tremendous storm. From this day till 
the 29th, when the decisive battle took place, the 
difficulty of keeping these brave but irregular peasants 
together, was most painfully felt by the chiefs. How- 
ever, on the morning of that day, they assembled to 
the number of 18,000, aided by about a thousand 
regulars, seventy horse, and five guns : the whole very 
sparingly provided with ammunition, and many of the 
peasantry armed with mere implements of agriculture. 
The Bavarians opposed to them 8000 foot, 800 horse, 
and 25 guns. Early in the morning, a general attack 
was made upon the whole Bavarian line, from the bridge 
of Volders to the Iselberg. Speckbacher was attached to 
the right wing, and with a column of 600 of his neigh- 
bours attacked the bridge at Hall, and, in spite of 
the cannonade and the fire of musketry kept up from 
the opposite bank, succeeded in destroying it. His 
headlong and impetuous valour, on this and other 
occasions, made him known to the Bavarians, among 



THE BRENNER. 95 

whom he went by the name of Der Feuer-teufel, or the 
Firedevil. A strong body of peasants was posted upon 
the Iselberg, headed by several chiefs, amongst whom 
we must not forget to call to mind Joachim Haspinger, 
a Capuchin friar, who, throughout this war, was one of 
the most stiff-necked opponents of the Bavarians, and 
whether buried in the silence of his cell, or combating 
in the first rank, manifested true devotion to the cause 
of his country. He was of athletic make, and always 
appeared, even in battle, dressed in his dark-brown 
mantle, and corded waist ; using no other weapon than 
a massive ebony crucifix, by appeals to which, he one 
moment raised the devotional heroism of his companions, 
and the next made use of it to break the heads of the 
Bavarians. His nom de guerre amongst the soldiers of 
that nation was Rothbarb, or the Bed-beard, from a 
long flowing appendage of that kind, which he kept 
trimmed with great care. Hofer himself, with the left 
wing, descended the route upon which we now stand, 
towards the Abbey of Wiltau, and in the course of the 
day, Major Teimer appeared on the height of Hottin- 
gen in the rear of the Bavarians. The battle lasted with 
great fury till evening, when a cessation of hostilities 
was agreed upon for the space of four and twenty hours. 
The Tyrolese had not lost many as to number, but 
had to lament the loss of several distinguished leaders 
amongst whom Count Stackleberg a Tyrolese noble- 
man, and the last of his race, was deservedly lamented. 
The Bavarians had lost fifteen times as many as 
their opponents in the two battles of the 26th, and 
29th, and the troops were so dispirited, that nothing 
was left to General Deroy but retreat. This was 



96 THE BRENNER. 

accordingly effected with considerable skill in the night 
of the 30th. and with such rapidity, that though 
hotly pursued by Speckbacher and a party of the Land- 
sturm, their progress down the Innthal was unattended 
by any loss. 

On the 31st, the Tyrolese made their second trium- 
phant entry into Inspruck. Hofer, Hormayr, and their 
co-adjutors, employed the succeeding interval of repose 
in attempting to rescue the country from the bad con- 
sequences, resulting from a state of internal disorder. 
Speckbacher and his companions addressed themselves 
seriously to the reduction of Kufstein, which held out 
after the second expulsion of the Bavarians, as it had 
done after the first. The disgust of the Tyrolese at 
the conduct of their Austrian allies remained unmoved. 
They still bore great affection to the persons of the 
Emperor and of the Archduke John, but the line of 
conduct pursued towards them appeared inexplicable. 

When we gain the opposite side of the Alps, an 
opportunity may occur of continuing this sketch ; in 
the mean time, the valley of the Inn is gradually fading 
in the distance, and the scenery around us demands 
a passing notice. 

The Brenner, in addition to being the lowest, is 
certainly, generally speaking, the least interesting 
Alpine pass I have ever traversed ; though one or two 
splendid views in the earlier part of the ascent, should 
be mentioned with admiration. Such an one bursts 
upon the view of the traveller, when, having crossed 
to the left bank of the Rutzbach, he gains the ridge 
of the Schbnberg, which separates the two vallies of 
the Stubay and the Sill. 



THE BRENNER. 97 

The former then appears displayed in its whole 
length, terminated by a fine pile of snowy alps. 
That of the Sill does not offer equal interest, but the 
mountains around, and on the opposite side of the 
Innthal, appear to great advantage. 

The Patscher-kofel remains a prominent feature 
of the view to the east ; and you now descry the large 
village of Patsch, situated on an elevated plateau, 
between the deep ravine of the Sill and the base of the 
mountain. Following the road, you first descend to 
the torrent, and then commence a gradual ascent to the 
villages of Mattray and Steinach. Both are large, and 
seem to consist, for the greater part, of cabarets and inns. 
In the church of the latter, I noticed three paintings, 
the master-pieces of Knoller, who is considered the 
best painter which these mountains have produced. 
He was a native of this village, and left these works 
as his legacy. 

Three leagues beyond Steinach, you reach the head 
of the ridge, a little above the elevated lake from 
which the Sill apparently takes its rise. A post-house 
and a pretty cascade mark the highest point. Even 
here, there are but few traces of alpine scenery or 
vegetation, and though the mountains around are 
tolerably elevated, yet all the outlines are rounder 
and less abrupt than might be expected. As the 
day declined, heavy showers of rain began to fly over 
the mountains ; but rain was more tolerable than 
such showers of dust as I had been obliged to encoun- 
ter for many hours, and I quickened my pace with 
the intention of reaching Gossensass, the first consi- 
derable village on the southern side. The Eisack had 

H 



y» THE BRENNER. 

been my guide, from the very summit of the ridge, 
and following its brawling and lively torrent, I soon 
reached the rocky dell, at the termination of which lay 
the picturesque village just named. Here the country 
becomes truly romantic ; and as I could not persuade 
the people to whom I addressed myself to give me a 
lodging, and the evening had not quite closed in, I 
pushed forward yet another league to Sterzing. This 
portion of the road repaid me for all the ennui of 
the day. You get a delightful peep into the lateral 
valley of the Pflerscherthal, opening on the right ; and 
the glen of the Eisack itself increases in interest and 
beauty step by step, till it opens into a more spacious 
vale near Sterzing. The town of this name is finely 
situated, and looks out from its angle in the mountain 
upon a noble scene of Alpine grandeur. Three or four 
vallies running down from the central chain, or towards 
the mountains at the head of the Passeyrthal, all con- 
verge towards this point. 

Here I found a multitude of large inns, at one of 
which I remained for the night, and have seldom en- 
joyed rest more ; for the experience is often made, that 
twelve leagues of hard dusty road are more fatiguing 
than 15 or 16 of rougher and more varied character. 

Sterzing is a market town, and enjoys considerable 
advantages from its position at the foot of the Brenner. 
The Alps in this part of their range form no limit 
to the prevalence of German faces, language, or cus- 
toms. All these are found to predominate for yet many 
leagues to the southward, — indeed till beyond Botzen, 
when heat, indolence, wine, and a luxuriant country, 
begin to introduce Italian complexions and habits. 



THE VALB OF THE EISACK. 99 

Quitting the town of Sterzing, and the open plain 
before it, my route continued for some hours to lead 
me down the valley of the Eisack. The river meanders 
for a few miles through the Sterzinger-moos, a marshy 
level, bounded by inferior hills, and commanded by 
many ruined castles, churches, and hamlets. A little 
below Stilfes however the mountains draw together and 
hem the Eisack within a confined and narrow bed, down 
which it rushes with a hoarse murmur for several 
leagues. From this point to the hamlet of Unter-au, the 
character of the scenery is truly imposing, and upon 
glancing down this profound glen, darkened as it was 
by the shadows cast from an overcharged sky, I could 
well imagine the invader's heart to have sunk within him, 
when he saw that his road dived into a gulph of so 
menacing an aspect. The rapid slope of the mountain 
sides, the brushwood and forest that cover the upper 
part, and the quantities of loose blocks spread over the 
acclivities, added to the narrowness of the defile, which 
alio ws but little space between the road and the river ; 
are all circumstances greatly in favour of mountain- 
warfare. The little plain and village of Mittenwald 
divides this defile into two distinct parts. — At Ober-au, 
the road, obstructed by the rocks in its passage along the 
left bank, crosses to the right, over a wooden bridge, 
and keeps the mountain side a little wide of the river, 
till the approach of the opposing mountains again 
obliges it to advance to t}ie brink of the stream. The 
hamlet of Unter-au, with its large inn and group of 
walnut-trees, then appears in view ; and immediately be- 
yond it, the roads to Brixen and the Pusterthal separate. 
The one continues to run in a southerly direction ; 

H 2 



100 THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 

the other wheeling to the left round a rocky knoll, 
upon which the traveller notices the first vines and 
chesnut-trees, crosses the river once more, by the 
celebrated Puntleiterbriicke, a single arch spanning a 
horrible abyss of immense depth, at the bottom of which 
the Eisack foams downward in an encumbered bed to- 
wards the fertile plain of Brixen. — Many however are 
the serpentine twists which it must make, before it 
rejoices the fat monks of Neustif with its presence. 

But I pause here — choosing this time and place, for 
the introduction of a second sketch from the events of 
that remarkable era in the history of Tyrol, to which I 
have already alluded. 

We left the Tyrolese, about the end of May, in pos- 
session of their capital, and the Tyrol in a great mea- 
sure freed a second time from the presence of their 
enemies. Yet it must be confessed, they were at once 
victorious and unhappy. Every thing was in confusion ; 
and the attempts made, during the succeeding two 
months of June and July, to bring the civil and military 
constitution of the country into order, were far from 
satisfactory. Arms, provisions, ammunition, were ex- 
tremely scarce, and it was found almost impossible to 
raise any sum of money in the present doubtful state 
of affairs. Bavarian intrigues added to these difficulties. 
Various schemes were set on foot to remove them 
and to bring the inhabitants of the neighbouring 
alpine districts to co-operate .with the Tyrolese in their 
system of self-defence — when, on the 17th of July, the 
news of the decisive battle of Wagram and the armistice 
of Znaim, came like a thunderbolt upon the people 
and their chiefs. 



THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 101 

The Marquis Chasteler, after long manceuvering, 
had effected a junction with the army of the Archduke. 
General Buol was still in the Tyrol, but now received 
positive orders to evacuate that country, and sur- 
render it to the Bavarians. — The confusion at this 
intelligence rose to its height. The peasantry abso- 
lutely refused to allow the regulars to retire ; asserting, 
that it was impossible that the Emperor could desert 
them. They referred to his proclamation at the com- 
mencement of the war, in which he swears never to 
submit to terms which would deprive him of his faithful 
Tyrolese. They insisted that the orders received must be 
forged. Multitudes were dispirited, and laying down 
their arms, retired to their homes ; while others, among 
whom were many of the chiefs, proposed not only resist- 
ance, but the immediate massacre of their numerous 
prisoners of war. This ferment lasted some days ; and 
then the more influential men persuaded Hofer to 
announce himself as commander-in-chief, and to head 
another general rising. Till this moment, though 
widely known and respected, he had only appeared as 
leader of the brave Landsturm of his native valley. 
Thus, though abandoned to their fate, and even advised 
by the Emperor to submit, the Tyrolese again prepared 
for energetic defence. The Austrians were permitted to 
depart : Baron Hormayr the imperial Intendant, and 
many of the chiefs and functionaries, who now despaired 
of the cause of liberty in Tyrol, departed in their 
train. Hofer, though continually urged, refused to do 
so. Speckbacher had returned disappointed from the 
unsuccessful blockade of Kufstein, which the Tyrolese 
were now forced to raise, in consequence of the advance 



102 THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 

of the Duke of Dantzic towards the frontier. He was 
a favourite with the Austrian commanders, and at 
length suffered himself to be persuaded by them that 
nothing further was to be done for Tyrol. He retired 
to his cottage on the mountain, took leave of his faithful 
wife and five children, and mounting an open car 
with certain Austrian officers, traversed the Brenner. 
While descending the southern side, it happened that 
they met Andrew Hofer. Though they passed with- 
out halting, Speckbacher's person had caught the 
quick eye of this Tyrolese chief, and an exclamation 
of surprise and grief was borne by the wind to the 
ear of the former. It was unnoticed by his compa- 
nions, but sunk deep into the bosom of him to whom 
it was addressed. A mental struggle was the con- 
sequence, which terminated in his secretly quitting 
the car at the first post-house, procuring a horse, and 
rejoining Hofer. The result of their interview was a 
renewed determination, never to desert the Tyrol while 
a blow could be struck in its defence. 

It was now the beginning of August ; the Austrian 
regulars had then quitted the country, — not however 
before some hundreds had deserted their ranks, to 
mingle with their Tyrolese brethren, and conquer or 
fall with them. On the last day of July, the Duke of 
Dantzic had entered Inspruck, and threatened to ad- 
vance with his whole force over the Brenner into Southern 
Tyrol. The Tyrolese were up in arms ; but their Chief 
remained at his cottage in the Passeyrthal, undecided 
how to act. Joachim Haspinger was buried in the 
silence of his cloister of Clausen, but was sought and 
consulted by several leaders whom Hofer's indecision 



THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 103 

left to pursue their own course. After some resistance, 
which was natural, as he had found to his cost, that 
he had lost in sanctity what he gained in military 
renown, he consented to come forth and hold a council 
with Kenmater, Schenk, and Mayer, three of the most 
influential chiefs in this quarter of Tyrol, at Brixen. In 
consequence, hostilities were instantly recommenced, and 
from May the 4th to the 11th, the deep vale of the 
Eisack, the open plains of the Sterzinger-moos, and the 
heights of the Brenner, were the scenes of a terrible 
struggle between the Tyrolese and their invaders. 

The peculiar character of the resistance opposed by 
the Tyrolese to the strong force of regular troops 
whom they confronted, was never more strikingly 
exemplified than during this episode of the war. Our 
morning's walk has led us, in peace and silence, across 
the marshy flat, through the deep gorge, and over the 
two bridges, which, during that memorable week, were 
scenes of such fearful interest. Of these scenes we 
will attempt to present a sketch. 

It will be understood that, among the insurgents 
now brought together, there could be no regular troops ; 
for the few Austrians who had remained behind were 
hardly numerous enough, or sufficiently well equipped, 
to deserve the name. The Landsturm of the several 
districts were, it is true, organized bodies, and had 
their regular chiefs ; but were neither accustomed nor 
friendly to the adoption of a regular system of military 
tactics. Neither were their leaders capable of con- 
ceiving or of executing any of those complicated 
movements, the success of which depends upon the 
prompt and exact execution of several distinct manceu- 



104 THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 

vres. Ho.fer, whose principal value consisted in the love 
and respect borne to him in all parts of Tyrol, and his 
simple and affectionate patriotism, was still absent ; 
and neither Speckbacher, Haspinger, or the other 
chiefs, had much pretensions to military skill, beyond 
fearless bravery, devotion to the cause, and natural 
intelligence. But nevertheless, the unincumbered and 
active peasantry had many advantages, resulting from 
the peculiar character of the country in which they 
fought. To them every rock, ravine, and mountain 
path- way was known; they possessed a clue to the 
passage of those tremendous labyrinths of rock, forest, 
and precipice, which presented insurmountable diffi- 
culties and dangers to the invaders ; and which, piled 
up and soaring into the clouds, seemed peremptorily to 
forbid the advance of their armed bands. The skill 
of the Tyrolese in the use of the rifle, that most 
fatal implement of partizan warfare, is not to be 
undervalued. But there was another and more pow- 
erful advantage which they possessed, namely, the 
conviction that they were combating for their country 
and their homes, and that no other arms than their own 
could now be interposed between them and destruction. 
They had disregarded the order of their Emperor to lay 
down their arms, and could no longer expect that he 
would or could interfere to save them from vengeance. 
Early on the 4th of August, the sound of the alarm- 
bells, tolling simultaneously from vale and mountain, 
summoned the peasantry together, and a furious attack 
was instantly made upon a body of French and Saxons 
posted on the Eisacknear the bridge which we have just 
traversed, that lasted till the approach of evening. 



THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 105 

This was the commencement of a struggle which lasted 
without much intermission till the 11th. Haspinger con- 
tinued day after day to bar the passage to the South, and 
to employ every effort to drive the enemy back toward 
Sterzing. The scene of slaughter at the two bridges, 
which were the points most fiercely disputed, sur- 
passes description. The enemy made repeated attempts 
to force them, but their artillerymen fell at their guns, 
and their infantry and cavalry were repeatedly driven 
back. The bridges were blown up, and large rocks and 
trees hurled down upon the dense groups of the 
soldiers. Hay-waggons were thrust forward to shelter 
the advancing column of Tyrolese from the showers of 
grape and balls directed against them. The Saxons 
distinguished themselves particularly, and fought with a 
bravery which would have become a nobler cause. 
Many were carried away, by the foaming waters of 
the Eisack in attempting to force a passage across 
its rugged bed. One of their officers, a brave and 
gallant man, worthy of a better fate, strove in vain 
to rally his followers, and pass that dreadful bridge to 
dislodge the Tyrolese, while, half blown up, it was 
trembling in the smouldering flame which had been com- 
municated to it. He spurred his horse upon it, — but 
while beckoning his followers to advance, the planks 
upon which he stood quivered and fell, and he sunk from 
their sight into the dark and yawning gulph beneath. 
The dispirited troops at length gave way, and begun 
to retire up the gorge of the Eisack. The bridges were 
hastily repaired, and the Tyrolese never ceased to hang 
upon their enemies' rear. Moreover, while the contest 
had been going on between Ober-au and Unter-au, 



106 THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 

the whole country far and wide had been alarmed, and 
the peasants mustered like bees on the heights overlook- 
ing the ravine through which the enemy had to retreat. 
Trees had been felled, rocks undermined, the great 
rounded masses lying half buried among the earth on 
the slopes dislodged and propped, — the white-headed 
father of the hamlet, the stripling, and even women 
and children, aiding to prepare and guide this tremend- 
ous mountain- artillery. 

Speckbacher took up a strong position in the rear 
near Sterzing ; and Hofer, roused from his apathy, 
appeared upon the Jaufens, the ridge between the 
vale of the Eisack and the head of the Passeyrthal, 
at the head of his Landsturm; but had not opened 
communication with Haspinger and Speckbacher, 
when the Duke of Dantzic crossed the Brenner in 
person, with fresh troops, hoping to force a passage 
into Southern Tyrol, and to put an end to the in- 
surrection. He had been severe in his remarks 
upon the conduct of Generals Wrede and Deroy, in 
allowing themselves to be driven out of the country by 
a horde of ill-armed peasantry. But before three 
days had elapsed, he himself returned a miserable 
and disguised fugitive to Inspruck, attended by a few 
dispirited followers cursing his folly, and the desperate 
enthusiasm of the Tyrolese. 

He had quitted Sterzing on the morning of the 
second day, and directed the vanguard, consisting of 
about four thousand Bavarians to advance and force 
the passage through the contracted gorge below Stilfes. 
The shade of the impending mountains, the ominous 
silence which reigned around, and the knowledge of the 



THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 107 

desperate resistance which had been opposed to their 
comrades within the recesses of the defile, seem to have 
struck a chill into the hearts of the soldiers. It was 
not without the use of threats that they could be made 
to move forward. Once a voice was heard above them, 
calling across the ravine : ' Stephen, is the time come?' 
* Not yet' — was the ominous reply. The Duke was 
informed of the circumstance, but confirmed his order 
to advance. Shortly after, a cry was heard — ' Hans ! 
For the most Holy Trinity ! ' followed by the deep 
response, ' In the name of the Holy Trinity, cut all 
loose.' A crash of falling masses followed, which 
smothered the wild shouts which rose from numberless 
ambuscades ; and in another instant, hundreds of the 
Bavarians were beaten down, overwhelmed, and hurried 
into the torrent by the broad avalanche which thundered 
upon their ranks from the surrounding slopes and pre- 
cipices. A murderous fire was instantly opened upon 
the survivors ; and the advanced troops, put into inex- 
tricable confusion, fell back after the main body ; 
followed by the Tyrolese, and continually harassed by 
fresh attacks on the flanks from ambushes against 
which they could find no means of acting. The 
Duke was himself in the greatest personal danger, and 
fled towards Sterzing ; but Hofer and Speckbacher now 
effected a junction with Haspinger, and falling again 
upon the flank and rear of the disordered troops, com- 
pleted their overthrow. Guns, baggage, ammunition, 
all were abandoned, and the soldiers dispersed without 
leaders. As already mentioned, the Duke was the first 
to bring the news of his defeat to Inspruck ; and in the 
course of the 11th and 12th, the remnants of this scat- 



108 THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 

tered force were collected within the city, to the very 
gates of which they were followed by the Tyrolese. 

While some fugitives were thus entering from the 
South, others were seen flying along the route from 
Upper-Innthal. In that quarter, a drama of precisely 
similar character to that described had been acted. 
A body of 1700 Bavarians had been ordered to proceed 
on the 8th of May in that direction, to force a passage 
over Nauders and Mais, to the upper valley of the Adige, 
but were supprised by a small number of peasants in 
the ravine, which we have already described, between 
Landeck and Pruz, and after a signal defeat from 
the same causes, had been altogether dispersed or 
taken prisoners, on the 9th and 10th instant. The 
13th of August dawned upon the closing scene of this 
act of the Tyrolese war. The preceding day, the 
Tyrolese had taken post on their favourite field of 
battle the Iselberg, and the Duke formed his line 
opposite to them, between the city and the foot of the 
mountains, as his predecessors had done. His force 
was estimated at 25,000 men and 40 pieces of cannon. 
That of the Tyrolese at 18,000. Numbers were con- 
sequently far in favour of the enemy, but the major 
part were dispirited fugitives. Hofer commanded in 
person, as at the last victory in May ; and Haspinger, 
though overcome with fatigue, could not be persuaded 
to absent himself. Speckbacher led on the right wing. 
The battle was fiercely contested for many hours ; 
the bridge of the Sill, and the church- yard of Wiltau, 
within whose sacred precincts lay interred the bodies of 
their brethren slain in the former engagements, were 
again the scenes of the most terrible slaughter. 



THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 109 

God again was pleased to humble the proud invaders, 
and to give the victory to the inhabitants of the country. 
Before sun-set, the French and Bavarians had evacu- 
ated Inspruck, and retreating over the river, had begun 
their retrograde movement down the Innthal. They 
were followed as on the former occasion by Joseph 
Speckbacher who with considerable success attacked 
their rear- guard at Schwatz. Thus in the course of little 
more than five months, the Tyrol had been delivered 
three several times from the presence of the intruders. 
On the 15th, Hofer made his triumphal entry into 
Inspruck. It cannot but be known to the reader how 
vain and short-lived was this triumph, and to how 
little purpose the brave peasant had shed his blood 
and suffered hardship and deprivation. 

The conclusion of this brief and disjointed chronicle 
has a deep and melancholy interest. But here I must 
stop for the present. I see far in the distance a spot 
where its introduction may not be inapplicable — but 
we have many a long and weary league before us ere 
we reach it. 

I resume my pilgrimage. — The road to the 
Pusterthal was now before me ; and turning to the 
eastward, I left the vicinity of the ravine above des- 
cribed, and moved onward for some miles over the edge 
of a very arid and uneven tract of country. It occupies an 
area of very considerable extent, surrounded by distant 
ranges of mountains, and but sterile in appearance, except 
where overrun by dark patches of forest. In the N. E. 
angle of this comparatively open square, I had to seek 
the entrance to the vallev of the Rienz or the Puster- 



110 MUHLBACH. 

thai ; and after an hour's walk came suddenly upon the 
height commanding it. It appeared as I stood above 
it, like a deeply sunk and wooded glen, at the bottom 
of which lay the pretty white- walled town of Muhlbach. 
To obtain shelter from the sunbeams was my first 
object ; and to find some place of safety in which I 
might deposit the superfluous portions of my equip- 
ment, while I made a few days ramble to the eastward, 
the second. Both were soon attained ; and, after an 
hour's repose, I left the major part of my equipment to 
the custody of a good motherly woman, whom I pro- 
pitiated, first by drinking a bottle of sour wine — then, 
eating and paying for a basin of outlandish soup, and 
lastly by noticing her children — and quitted Muhlbach. 
I then seriously addressed myself to add four or five 
leagues to my morning's walk, and advanced up the 
valley. As it happened that in consequence of some very 
unexpected adventures, I retraced my steps after the 
interval of a few days ; I will leave all description of 
this portion of the Pusterthal, till the regular course 
of events brings me here again, and merely mention, 
that after a walk, varied by a few heavy showers 
of rain, I came to a pause a little before nightfall in 
the village of St. Lorenzen, a couple of miles to the 
westward of the market town of Brunnecken. The 
bridge of St. Lorenzen is another of those passes which 
render military tactics, and the common usages of war, 
of little avail ; and this the French and Bavarians 
often experienced. Though the heat during these few 
days had been unusually great for the season, the signs 
exhibited at sunset were far from being of an en- 
couraging character. During the night, the moon 



ST. LORENZEN. Ill 

shone in at the west window of my simple apartment, 
and the lightning at the east : however, you will pro- 
bably experience that long habit produces a species 
of resignation, if not indifference, to what the morning 
may bring, and that you become ready to take what 
God sends. Besides this, a thoroughly wet and rainy 
day occasionally, is not to be accounted a misfortune 
by a pedestrian who is tolerably persevering in his 
advance ; for correspondence, and other kinds of duty 
will often from circumstances suffer some neglect, and 
these may plead for attention, and make you rejoice 
to have a fair excuse. 

I was very busy with my maps this morning, having 
come to no clearness in my own mind, as to the course 
I should pursue, in order to accomplish all the objects 1 
had now in view in visiting Eastern Tyrol. I wished to 
visit the Pusterthal, Taufersthal, and the Great Glock- 
ner. How to comprise these divers objects within the 
time I had set apart for them, and to which I was in a 
measure restricted, by being cut off from my resources 
at Muhlbach, I could not devise. To make matters 
still more difficult, I saw that the flying thunderstorms 
of the preceding night, had sprinkled all the higher 
parts of the country with snow. In the midst of my 
perplexity, I was accosted with much deference by the 
varlet attached to the house, who had been long leaning 
on the opposite side of the table with his elbows resting 
upon it, and his head between his hands, in stupid 
amazement at the sight of my map, and who now 
opened his lips to inquire, whence I came — and 
whither I meant to go. When I had satisfied him as to 
the former, and asked his advice as to the latter, I 



112 ST. LORENZEN. 

found, from the information he gave me, that there was 
a ' short cut ' in the direction of the Great Glockner, 
of which Anich's map gave no specification. — This 
would lead me across the high ridge at the head of the 
collateral vale of Antholz, about five leagues distant, 
into the valley of Teferecken. Near the junction of 
the latter with the valley of the Isl, I was told that I 
should find another ravine which would lead me up 
to the base of the mountain in question — and with 
a purpose and mind fully engrossed with this newly- 
discovered * short cut,' I quitted St. Lorenzen. 

Here it may be observed, that there are few indivi- 
duals, even of the humblest classes, from whom some 
valuable information may not be gleaned : and I have 
long made it a point of duty to stem that spirit of 
reserve which seems to distinguish Englishmen 
from all the inhabitants of the continent, as I find 
that it deprives me of many opportunities of adding to 
general information. I do not indeed account it neces- 
sary to run into the opposite extreme, after the example 
of the Germans, but think that a middle course will 
answer every purpose. 

The Englishman is certainly not the most socia- 
ble being among strangers, whose conversation he 
rather shuns than provokes. He feels it almost an 
insult to become the butt of conjecture to those 
around, and to be subjected to their awkward attempts 
to satisfy ill-concealed or more open curiosity : — while 
he considers it little worth his while to inquire about the 
professions, business, persons and opinions of others. 
Hence a general remark on the state of the weather 
or the latest news, and he is at the end of his tether. 



TFIE PUSTERTHAL. 113 

The German, on the contrary, has a kind of restless 
curiosity and desire to communicate and to learn, and 
such a droll kind of half-cunning simplicity all the while, 
in managing- his advances, that I have often been at 
a loss to know, whether it would be proper to show 
solemn indignation or undisguised glee, at the singular 
compound of impudence and simplicity, assurance and 
politeness, which distinguishes the thorough-bred Ger- 
man, in pursuance of his wish to satisfy curiosity. 
Figuratively speaking, he never stands firm, but keeps 
himself balanced with one leg in advance, and the 
other thrown backwards ; if he perceives that he can 
with safety come to closer quarters, he never fails to 
improve the opportunity, and slip nearer the point ; 
but is equally ready to retrograde, if the former should 
appear too hazardous : indeed, I have often seen him 
do the latter out of policy ; as the French say — reculer 
pour mieux sauter. 

I leave all notice of Brunecken till my return, and 
press forward with my sketch, as I did in reality, 
towards the entrance of the Antholzthal, a vale de- 
scending from the northward, in the same line as that 
of Taufers, which merges in the Pusterthal, opposite 
Brunecken, but not penetrating up to the central 
chain, as the latter does. I could not decide whe- 
ther the weather intended to favour me or not. It 
was of that doubtful character which is so calculated 
to produce corresponding indecision in the traveller. 

As far as Antholz, the principal village, situated 
about two leagues from the entrance of the vale, I 
was often led to hope that those huge dense volumes 
of mist, which clothed the peaks in the depth of the 

I 



114 THE VALLEY OP ANTHOLZ. 

valley, and the summits of the ridges on either side, 
would really yield to the power of the sun, which I 
could see, from time to time, above my head, and 
give me a fair afternoon for the passage of the jock 
or ridge. To give time and opportunity for this, I 
entered the only house of entertainment the straggling 
village afforded, and halted, till the wind rising, 1 
deemed it advisable to attempt the passage in question. 
I was not deceived in my hopes, at least in the first in- 
stance, as a partial clearance, and even fine weather, 
for the first three hours, enabled me to make consi- 
derable advance, with both ease and enjoyment. 

After passing the highest hamlet and church, I 
commenced a varied climb, through a broken country, 
partly forest and partly pasture, enamelled like a 
flower-garden, with alpine anemonies and gentiana. 
This surmounted, I arrived at the brink of a little blue 
lake, deeply embedded in the forests covering the 
flanks of the precipitous mountains, which here begin 
to close in the valley. Those on the left or western 
side, judging from the vast precipices, and such por- 
tions of the higher pinnacles, as I was enabled to descry 
from time to time, must be of a very considerable 
height and picturesque form. Few must be the winds 
that can ruffle the surface of this calm and clear moun- 
tain-lake. It has points of resemblance with that in 
the Klbnthal, in Canton Glaris, but it is much more 
savage. Having rounded the upper extremity, I 
continued my ascent through a wild forest, to a small 
chalet,erected over some mineral springs ; and then up 
a steep acclivity, by a winding path, upon which the 
patches of unmelted snow were a very unwelcome 



THE VALE OF TEFERECKEN. 115 

sight. This finally brought me to the summit of the 
ridge. Here the snow lay in considerable quantities, 
and the bare rocks were overflowed with the superfluous 
moisture. On turning back, before I left the edge of 
the hollow, to glance into the deep vale now at my feet, I 
beheld a sight which warned me of what was to follow ; 
for vast piles of clouds and mist were accumulating 
over it, of that dun and livid hue which betokens 
violent tempest. These speedily whirled forward to- 
wards the head of the mountain where I stood, with a 
velocity which warned me to make the best of my 
way to the shelter of the valley to the north-east ; 
from the nearest village of which I was yet eight miles 
distant. Little remains to be said. — I did not wait to 
observe the further progress of my coming enemy, but 
flew over the head of the Pass, and downward through 
the forests, which I reached, by great exertion, in 
about three quarters of an hour's time. The clouds 
and mist did not overtake me till I was deeply merged 
in the forest : however, this interposed no hindrance to 
my progress, as the road, though very rugged, was too 
clearly marked to be lost, and as yet no rain had fallen. 
But, no sooner had I emerged from the region covered 
by the vapour, and gained the banks of the torrent 
rolling down the valley of which I was in quest, than 
there fell upon me a hurricane of wind, and such a 
driving storm of mingled hail, sleet, and rain, as caused 
me to rush instinctively into the first shelter that pre- 
sented itself. This was a small cottage attached to 
the highest hamlet in the valley ; but finding no hope 
of accommodation ; and seeing that, with the approach 
of night, the storm rather increased than diminished in 

I 2 



116 ST. JACOB. 

violence, I had no alternative than to brave it, and to 
run three miles further down to the village of St. 
Jacob. Half an hour sufficed for this : and a far 
better inn than I could have expected received me 
into its warm apartment, after that time had elapsed. 

No one shall accuse the good woman of St. Jacob 
of inhospitality in my hearing, as she appropriated the 
greater part of her husband's wardrobe to my use, 
without either awaiting my request, or his consent. 

Though made tolerably comfortable, by the kind- 
ness of those about me, I felt that there was no chance 
of my succeeding in my present projects ; and that 
somewhat disturbed my equanimity. As night drew 
on, every thing without appeared buried under deep- 
ening snow. However, nobody knew what the morrow 
would betide, and I had it in my power to bring the 
day to an end by soon betaking myself to that won- 
derful congeries of straw- sacks, and woolsacks, called 
in these countries, a bed. 

Those who descend mountain paths in wet weather, 
must beware of the timber- slides which often cross the 
line of the footway, and, if care be not employed in 
choosing the right moment for leaping across them, the 
descending trees may cost the traveller his life ; as it is 
precisely during heavy rains, that the mountaineers 
strive to launch the timber downward towards the 
vallies, since they fly thrice as far when the earth is 
humid, as at other times. I had fortunately timely 
warning, or I might have fared badly during my rapid 
descent to St. Jacob. 

In this manner I found that I was for the second time 
fairly entrapped : — surprized by snow, just in the place 



THE VALE OF TEFERECKEN. 117 

where of all others I was most likely to be annoyed by 
it, and my plans the most seriously deranged. By dawn 
the whole valley appeared to be buried under a layer of 
fourteen inches. However I made up my mind to the 
reverse, and employed the inactive state to which I 
was reduced, in considering and re-modelling my whole 
future journey for six weeks to come. I was at length 
convinced, that the season was yet too early for any 
excursion in the higher mountains, and that the wisest 
way was to escape from their vicinity, and effect that 
part of my projected rambles of which the scene lay 
more to the southward, before I made any further 
attempt to penetrate to the central chain of the Rhetian 
Alps. This would, however, entail a return to these 
parts, an event upon which I had not calculated. 

My first object was now to escape from the net 
into which I had been decoyed : and as the passage 
behind me was now blocked up, I had no alternative 
but to reach the town of Lienz in the valley of the 
Drave, at four and twenty miles distance, and then 
return to Muhlbach by the great line of route through 
the Pusterthal. I accordingly put myself in motion about 
noon. My descent from this wild and savage valley will 
not require many lines of description, as the natural fea- 
tures are by no means extraordinary. The mountains 
cannot be said to have been wholly obscured by clouds, 
at the same time that their outlines were but faintly dis- 
tinguishable, and often, towards the summits, quite lost 
in the showers of sleet and snow which still hovered 
around them. The lower part of the course of the 
Tefereckenbach is more diversified than the upper, as 
the river plunges down a compressed ravine. On the 



118 THE VALE OF THE ISL. 

side of the mountain over which the rugged footway 
is carried, a view opens upon the valley of the Isl, 
and upon the noble group of majestic mountains 
which bounds it to the north. They are in immediate 
conjunction with the main chain of the Alps, and par- 
ticularly with that elevated division containing the 
Great Glockner. Sufficient of the outline of several 
bold, rocky, and snow-covered mountains could be 
descried among the mists, to convince me, that a 
second attempt to penetrate into these recesses, at a 
more genial season, would not be ill repaid. 

Before I make good my descent into the valley of the 
Isl, and set foot upon the high road from Windish 
Mattray to Lienz, I have still time to make a passing 
observation upon the inhabitants of this remote valley, 
for the pathway down the mountains is fearfully 
long, stony, and deceptive. And first the costume, 
which out-herods all I have ever seen, being the most 
gloomy and disagreeable it is possible to conceive. 
A vest, petticoat, and cap of the plainest form, woven 
from the undyed wool of the black-brown sheep of 
the district, and which is, in most instances, at- 
tached to a diminutive and stunted person, appears 
a fitting apparel for the fair sex in a valley of dis- 
mals, for such Teferecken seems to be. The male attire 
corresponds. I was more than once brought to a halt 
in the forest by the motions of an animal which I 
judged from size and colour to be nothing more or less 
than a bear rampant, but which proved to be a fellow- 
creature, at his ordinary avocations. The traveller 
perceives very little culture of any sort, and though 
there are fine alpine pastures on the summits of the 



THE VALE OP THE ISL. 119 

secondary mountains surrounding the valley, they are 
rarely habitable or capable of being taken advantage 
of, for more than two months in the year. At the head 
of the valley rise mountains, whose summits certainly 
soar above the line of perpetual snow, which in the 
Rhetian Alps is rather under 8000 feet. One, called 
by the peasants the Giant of Patsch, is particularly 
reverenced by them, as quite inaccessible. In general 
I must remark, that I am seldom able to identify the 
nomenclature of the mountains as noted on Anich's 
map, otherwise very good, with the names given by the 
peasants. The same savage character observable in 
its converging ravines, is to be found in the greater 
portion of the Islthal, through which I passed, later in 
the day ; and it was not till I had nearly completed my 
eight leagues, by arriving at Ober-Lienz, that the 
country became really interesting, either in its out- 
line or detail. The mode commonly adopted in this 
district for the preservation of the scanty crops, 
namely that of erecting high scaffolding with trans- 
verse rods, upon which the sheaves are hung to dry, 
bespeaks its variable and uncertain climate. Yet, 
as evening drew in, and I toiled forward through the 
rugged forests, which not only occupy the hill sides, 
but often stray lower, and take possession of the valley, 
I could not but feel cheered by the joyous song of 
innumerable thrushes and blackbirds, that warbled as 
sweetly in these savage and ungraceful thickets, as 
ever in the most favoured bower in Italy, or the fresh 
groves of my own dear country. The singularly bold 
and rocky barrier of mountains, with which the valley 
appeared to terminate, now grew more interesting to 



120 LIENZ. 

the eye, and took my attention from the weary road 
under foot. 

At sunset, 1 descended into the fine open vale of the 
Drave, under the shadow of the picturesque castle of 
Briick, and entering the town of Lienz, found good enter- 
tainment at an inn. It need hardly be added, that long 
before I had finished my descent of the Tefereckenthal 
all traces of snow on the lower grounds had vanished ; 
and that at Lienz, I found myself suddenly introduced 
to a more genial climate. 

May 29th. The town of Lienz, the most easterly 
of those appertaining to the Tyrol, and not far from 
the frontiers of Salzburg, Carinthia, and Carniola, 
lies in a spacious vale, into which the two vallies of the 
Isl and the Upper- Drave open towards the west. 
Neither the size, nor the edifices of the town, are 
remarkable; but the situation strikes the traveller 
as singularly advantageous. To the south, a range 
of rugged and inaccessible rocks running east and west, 
and forming the frontier between Tyrol and the Vene- 
tian States, rear their pinnacles directly over the 
wooded heights in advance, at the entrance of the pass 
leading to the Pusterthal. On the other side of the 
valley, the mountains swell gradually from the level 
meadows at their foot, covered to a very considerable 
height with crops of rye, and produce of even less hardy 
culture. 

This day's walk from Lienz to the village of Welsberg 
in the Pusterthal, though in general not the most inter- 
esting, afforded several objects deserving of notice. 
Towards the summit of the passage beyond Sillian, the 
irregular ascent gradually assumes the form of a sloping 



TOBLACH. 121 

plain, covered with the first range of meadows, and 
stretching for full three miles to the neighbourhood of 
Tbblach, where it sinks down abruptly to Niederdorf 
and the Pusterthal. 

Great interest is excited by the occasional appear- 
ance of the rocky chain before mentioned as running 
to the southward ; either from the advance of its ridges 
towards the line of the pass, or from the occasional 
break in the lower hills, which surround the latter, and 
in general impede the view. Such an one occurs in 
the neighbourhood of the hamlet of Ober-Viersach, 
where the hills to the south, decreasing in height, give 
view of a part of the chain, rocky, barren and precipi- 
tous beyond any thing I had ever seen in the western 
Alps. One noble pile particularly, with a perfectly 
formed mural crown encircling its summit, is here 
particularly conspicuous. Again, upon the descent 
into the valley of the Rienz, between Niederdorf and 
Welsberg, the passage of a mountain- stream from the 
southward, gives opportunity for the eye to glance 
up into the country, and the most fantastic points 
present themselves. 

A new line of route, leading from Tbblach direct by 
Cortina to Venice, upon which the Austrian engineers 
are now engaged, must cut directly across this peculiar 
chain. Hail-storms prevailed during the greater part 
of the day ; but the sun set over the mountains with 
inexpressible glory, throwing a blaze of vermillion and 
gold over the earth and sky. Such a spectacle lightens 
the steps of a traveller during the last long league of 
his day's journey. 

I promised to describe the Pusterthal in descending 



122 THE PUSTERTHAL. 

it, and have every disposition to keep my word ; 
merely mentioning with regard to my own movements 
on May 20th, that I descended without adventure 
from Welsberg, the whole length of the main valley 
to Muhlbach. 

The Reinz, such being the name of the torrent which 
threads the Pusterthal, rises in the rocky chain of 
mountains to the southward of Tbblach. At this vil- 
lage, it first makes its appearance in the more open 
vale. Its downward course, for about ten miles, is not 
distinguished by any remarkable scenery, the bed being 
for the greater part very rugged, and often deeply 
sunk in a confused jumble of irregular hills. It, how- 
ever, receives several powerful tributaries, among 
which we notice, for old acquaintance' sake, the stream 
from the valley of Antholz. 

By far the most considerable mountain- river enters 
a few miles lower down, from the long and impor- 
tant valley of Taufers. The finest scene in the Pus- 
terthal opens before the traveller, as he descends 
from the village of Percha towards the principal 
town of Brunecken. The mountains, though neither 
bold in outline nor very elevated, are then seen with 
their varied show of forest and pasture, receding 
gradually to a considerable distance on every side, 
giving place to a tract of country of no trifling extent, 
partly level and highly cultivated, and partly broken 
into knolls and chequered with forests. Brunecken, 
with its church and convent, towers about the centre, 
at the foot of a castellated eminence. Further to the 
right, appears the opening into the Taufersthal, with 
several picturesque villages at the entrance. Whether 



THE PUSTERTHAL. 123 

the fine bold mountains seen in the depth of this latter 
valley were really glaciers or not, I am at present 
unable to decide, as they were too much enveloped by 
the morning' clouds, to allow the whole of their outline 
to be discerned. 

The Rienz, now a considerable stream, seems to 
flow directly towards the further side of the mountain 
amphitheatre, but without the eye being able to descry 
the ravine through which it escapes. This doubt is how- 
ever soon solved on passing Brunecken, and arriving 
at the village of St. Lorenzen, situated in a little 
hollow about two miles beyond. The outlet is then 
observed between two rocky eminences, of which that 
on the right is crowned by the ruins of the castle of 
Glurnheer ; and from thence the river betakes itself, 
with very little exception, to its former irregular course, 
being shut in by the mountains, till it reaches the 
hamlet of Unter-vintl. Then, for a short distance, 
the valley widens again, and afterwards sinks down 
into the finely- wooded and gloomy ravine of Muhlbach. 
In the very depth of this hollow lies the dilapidated 
and rude fortification called the Miihlbacher- Clause, 
consisting of an irregular rhombus, with two round 
towers at the upper angles, resting against the steep 
breast of the mountain. There is a triple archway 
upon the road which it traverses, and another irregular 
tower at the lower extremity close to the river. It is 
the property of private individuals and fast going to 
decay, though it forms the key to the passage from 
Germany to Italy on this side, and the possession of it 
was frequently stubbornly contested during the late war. 
A mile beyond, just where the river, increased by a 



124 THE PUSTERTHAL. 

torrent rushing down a valley to the northward, turns 
to the south towards the valley of the Eisack, lies the 
pretty little town of Muhlbach where I arrived in good 
time, claimed my knapsack, and prepared for the pro- 
secution of my journey southward on the morrow. 
Meanwhile, that I may not add to the toil of another 
day, by leaving undone what belongs to its predecessor, 
being more and more convinced that each has its own 
portion, I proceed to make what general remarks occur 
to me, on this portion of the Tyrol. 

The general character of the valley of the Rienz 
rather disappointed me. Its fertility is however great, 
where there is place for it, and the inhabitants are very 
numerous, and a fine picturesque race. Though the 
surrounding mountains are in general by no means 
striking, their higher regions contain some of the finest 
pasturage in the Tyrol. 

The inhabitants are distinguished in many respects 
from their brethren in the great northern valley. They 
are, in general, of a fuller make than the latter, and 
have handsomer countenances. In the male costume, 
though, in general, the black leather chamois breeches, 
green suspenders and belt, are preserved, yet there is 
much more expense and taste displayed in their fash- 
ioning and colours. The hat is totally different, being 
a broad-brimmed yellow article, decorated with a large 
quantity of green ribbon, instead of the high crown and 
tassel elsewhere described. I noticed that the hair was 
in general worn long behind. The women, as else- 
where, are much less remarkable for a prevailing cos- 
tume than the men. A red vest and red pair of 
stockings, with the absence of the hideous cap and 



THE PUSTERTHAL. 125 

non-descript hoop, principally distinguished them from 
the Innthalers. The Pusterthalers are considered 
the richest peasants in Tyrol. The crops, besides the 
hay and barley, generally cultivated in Tyrol, comprise 
a little maize and flax. The cheese is here as elsewhere, 
detestable beyond all belief. You perceive already in 
the character of the Pusterthaler, elevated as his valley 
is, that he has the sunny side of the Alps for his birth- 
place ; for though gesticulation is but sparingly in 
vogue, the habit of violent screaming in general con- 
versation, reminds you forcibly of Italy. I often lift 
up my eyes from my occupation, in the idea, that I 
shall see blows or worse in a corner of the common apart- 
ment, where a special committee of peasants are occupied 
with some object of dispute : but no — there they are, 
perfectly motionless, sitting, leaning on their elbows, 
with their heads and noses close together in the middle 
of the table, screaming and swearing like so many 
madmen : but they mean no harm, and not a finger is 
stirred. 

Forest cultivation here, as elsewhere in the Tyrol, is 
greatly neglected. Indeed I have already come to the 
conclusion that the Tyrolese are in general indolent un- 
enterprising beings ; obstinately content to do as their 
fathers have done before them, and not easily roused to 
attempt any thing which is not absolutely demanded by 
present want or present pleasure. Let that principle 
be what it may, we see in Switzerland the beneficial 
effects of another system, and a more elevated way of 
thinking. With what I have already seen of the 
Tyrol, and that is the portion the least favoured by 
nature, I should be inclined to say, that it was a 



126 THE PUSTERTHAL. 

country of far greater capability than its neighbour, and 
of far less improvement, in consequence of the absence 
of knowledge and of proper attention to its interests. 
With regard to the towns and villages of the Puster- 
thal, little need be said, as I observed no great pecu- 
liarity. The outward form and proportions of the 
village churches are in no wise comparable with those 
in the Upper and Lower- Innthal. The interior is as 
usual, in the Alps, overloaded with tasteless ornaments, 
and a showy display of tinsel artificial flowers, fillagree, 
hideous daubs, and ex votos. The length of the valley 
of the Rienz, from Tbblach to Miihlbach, may be about 
thirty miles. 

The two following days were occupied in reaching the 
town of Botzen. I had been informed by mine hostess, 
upon arriving at Miihlbach, that she should have the 
good fortune to dine about sixty personages at her house 
on the following day ; and by the creaking of doors, 
stamping up and down the house, which continued all 
night, I found that among the sacrifices of time, 
temper, and patience, which so much cookery portended 
on the part of the household, my undisturbed repose 
was to be included. Besides, the savory fumes of five 
large wooden bowls full of choice pastry which was 
consigned to the custody of my apartment during the 
hours of the night, were sufficient to banish sound 
sleep, and filled my brain, when I did doze, with the 
most painful visions of outrageous feasting and gor- 
mandizing. In the morning, every table and chair 
was occupied with the provisions prepared or pre- 
paring, and I was glad to escape from the turmoil of 
the Tyrolese kitchen ; the more so, as about seven 



BRIXEN. 127 

o'clock already, to my surprise and the increased 
bustle of mine hostess and her myrmidons, I saw the 
guests coming in by shoals. Making all haste to get 
out of the press, I retraced the route by which I had, 
five days before, descended into the hollow, in which 
Muhlbach is so snugly nestled ; and soon reached the 
village of Schabs, by taking a route more to the south, 
than that leading to the Unter-au. While descending 
towards the vale of the Eisack, which here presents 
itself to great advantage, from the distance of the two 
chains by which it is inclosed ; I had time to give more 
attention to the character of the broken country 
through which two streams, the Rienz and the Eisack, 
flow to their point of junction, after issuing from their 
several defiles to the N. E. and N. W. A vast accu- 
mulation of debris of earth and sand and rounded 
masses of the white granite from the higher chains lie 
heaped together throughout the entire district, the 
collected ravage of the torrents during the course of 
ages. As might be supposed, it is very unproductive, 
and cultivation is but sparingly applied to the irregular 
surface. It is true, some few patches of vineyard and 
of rye, and, towards the base of the hills, a few 
scattered chesnuts and fruit-trees may be seen ; but in 
general the country is barely clothed with ragged fir- 
forests. My route shortly led me to a very near 
proximity with the Eisack, leaving the tortuous route 
of the Rienz much more to the left. The two streams 
finally unite between the cloister of Neustift and the 
town of Brixen. The former strikes from the very 
picturesque assemblage of buildings composing it ; and 
is viewed to very great advantage, as the road runs 



128 BR IX EN. 

over a precipitous bank of vineyard, immediately com- 
manding it. The vale of Brixen, now lies immediately 
before you, with the town of that name ; and many 
detached houses, spires, and villages are seen perched 
at the foot or the slopes of the hills. At Neustift, 
the river is crossed by a wooden bridge. Brixen was 
formerly a bishopric. The ancient episcopal palace 
and the great church are worth glancing at, but will 
not detain you long. The inhabitants are of a more 
enterprising and commercial character than the gener- 
ality of the Tyrolese. In the neighbourhood, there are 
many mineral springs. Brixen was the principal town 
of the Brixentes, a tribe subdued by the Romans in 
the time of Augustus. 

The walk from hence to Clausen is not the most 
interesting, as the valley narrows more and more, 
particularly in the neighbourhood of Schranbach, with- 
out assuming a romantic character. At Clausen, 
however, which is in itself an ugly antiquated town, 
squeezed in between the mountain and river, the general 
scenery becomes more interesting. The approach is 
striking from the extraordinary manner in which the 
mountain side on the right bank appears spotted with 
churches or castles. There are one or two edifices in 
the town which deserve a passing gaze, especially a 
little gothic chapel with groined roof near the entrance. 

In mentioning the situation of the cloister of Saben, 
perched on a high precipitous rock, and looking 
very imposing and picturesque, I take occasion to 
remark, how very few, among the numberless castles 
in the Tyrol, can lay claim to these epithets. Few 
that I have hitherto seen, are in any way remark- 



COLMAN. 129 

able either for architecture or comely proportion. 
However, it falls to my lot, in mentioning the name 
of my night's halting-place, Colman, a few miles 
further down the valley, to record the existence of 
another in the Trotzburg, near that village, the 
position of which is perfectly beautiful, and worthy 
of a tale of romance. Indeed the situation of Colman 
is altogether delightful, and appeared equally striking, 
amid the solemn hues and shadows of an evening 
closing in with every appearance of a rainy night ; 
and in bright morning sunshine. 

June 1st. — Three or four hours' heavy rain in the 
night was a novelty ; — far from unwelcome, however, 
as it formed no impediment to a continuation of the 
fine weather, laid the dust, and gave the atmosphere 
a most exhilarating freshness. My morning glance at 
the beautiful scenery around Colman was brief, as 
I deemed it my best plan to take advantage of the 
favourable state of the roads, for the completion of my 
walk to Botzen, and I therefore set forward at an early 
hour. The scenery of almost the whole of the passage 
of the Eisack, from Colman to Botzen is tolerably 
uniform. When you lose sight of the opening in 
which the former village lies, the river takes its course 
through a narrow, wooded, and rocky dell, whose diffe- 
rent turns present scenery of the same character, but 
rendered interesting from the manner in which the 
details are diversified. The rock of this portion of the 
country, a porphyry of uncommon beauty, and varied 
in its structure and composition, is a source of con- 
stant entertainment. The greater part is reddish ; 
but the most striking variety consists of a grey matrix, 

K 



130 THE VALE OF THE EISACK. 

crowded with green, red, and amethyst particles. 
Between these there are many shades. 

In this narrow ravine, running to the southward, 
the sun's rays have full power, though, from the cause 
already mentioned, and the draught of fresh air often 
accompanying the course of a rapid mountain torrent, 
(for such the Eisack may be termed in this part of its 
course,) this was no cause of annoyance. Two or three 
hamlets, picturesquely situated, and overshadowed by 
the umbrageous foliage of noble groups of walnut- 
trees, diversify the road. I found considerable amuse- 
ment, during my morning's walk, in the great number 
and variety of butterflies, which fluttered about the road 
and over the river. Many species were new to me. 
It is singular to observe the fondness of this beautiful 
insect for moisture — multitudes of them congregating 
on the damp sandy border of the torrent, and on such 
portions of the route as had been thoroughly saturated 
by the night's rain. Multitudes of lizards too, were to 
be seen stirring on every side ; and not a few were 
startled from their slumbers on the rocky shelves near 
the path, by my approach. 

The lizard is a contemplative animal, or reptile, 
if the term be better chosen, and his life a true life 
of quiet thought. If the weather be foul, he sits in 
his little hermitage among the stones and broken rock, 
and muses away his time. If sunny, there he lies, 
stretched out, and basking in the same sun-beam 
which afforded such solace to Diogenes ; with his head 
couched upon the surface, his slim body and long round 
tail slightly curved, and his bright little eye fixed 
upon the object of his attention, be it a fly or midge 



BOTZEN. 131 

which excites his appetite, or some more distinguished 
feature of God's creation, that attracts his notice. 
Should a footstep approach, — in he scuttles through 
the dust and leaves to his retreat : invariably, how- 
ever, when once safely housed, he turns his little 
smooth body, and peeping' out, takes cognizance of the 
motions and character of the object of alarm. I am 
not particularly partial to reptiles in general, and a 
toad or big-bellied spider are disagreeable objects to 
me ; yet I have an affection for a lizard. The very 
thought of him, brings to my remembrance the recol- 
lection of sunny days and hours. 

About three miles before you reach the town of Bot- 
zen or Bolzano, the road and river gradually make their 
escape from the ravine, and reach the limit of that fer- 
tile and garden-like plain, girt in by mighty mountains, 
where three great streams, descending from the southern 
flanks of the Tyrolese Alps, unite their waters in the 
very centre of the country. A little ocean of vines, 
surrounded by hills, covered by wood to their summit, 
now succeeds to the ravine, and the further approach 
of a mile presents to your view the town of Botzen 
standing among them, near the point of junction 
of the Eisack and its tributary from the Sarenthal. 
Having made my entry, I spent the heat of the day 
in some kind of repose, and set off early in the after- 
noon to the Monte Calvario, which, by its position, 
seemed to promise a point from which I might gain 
that general survey of the country, which it is always 
so desirable to obtain whenever it is possible ; as with- 
out it, the idea retained of any extended scene, must 
be very imperfect, 

K 2 



CHAPTER IV. 



— ' Padua, where the stars are, night by night 
Watched from the top of an old dungeon tower 
Whence blood ran once, the tower of Ezzelix.— 
Not as he watched them, when he read his fate 
And shuddered.' 



At the base of a broad and rocky eminence to the 
south of Botzen, a little beyond the Eisack -bridge, 
the traveller finds the first chapel attached to the 
Calvario. By taking" for his guide the footway which 
passes before it, he is led gradually from one little 
picturesque shrine to another, till he emerges upon 
a small plateau afforded by an advancing shoulder 
of the hill, and reaches the threshold of the principal 
chapel. 

The Calvario attached to any town, village, or clois- 
ter, is a favourite locality with me. I never forget 
that there I am upon consecrated ground ; that, what- 
ever may be the abuse, this painful road and suc- 
cession of simple appeals to memory, is instituted in 
memorial of Him who suffered and died to save us 
from eternal death. No Christian, whatever may be his 
denomination, need come hither without edification. If 
he pauses before the shrines, there is seldom anything 
within to offend, either in the rude portraiture of our 



BOTZEN. 133 

Saviour's last sufferings, or in the sentence or lines 
inscribed within. On the contrary, the latter are fre- 
quently such as should find an echo in the depth of his 
own breast. I do not envy the man, who, closing 
his heart against the blessing which might await him 
here, strays hither from mere curiosity or listlessness, 
and departing, shakes the dust from his feet, because 
it is the dust of pilgrimage. 

When upon the plateau above mentioned, the tra- 
veller is posted at the angle where the great range of 
mountains bends abruptly to the southward in the direc- 
tion of Trent, and forms the eastern boundary of the 
vale of the Adige. A delightful view of the latter 
valley is to be gained from this point ; but for a yet 
wider panorama, the summit of the hill at a considerable 
distance must be surmounted. From thence, the three 
great divisions of this spacious plain in the bosom of 
the mountains, may be, for the greater part, examined 
at leisure. They may be defined as follows. First, 
the portion to the eastward between the town of 
Botzen, lying immediately at your feet, and the ravines 
of the Eisack and Sarenthal, through which the Tal- 
ferbach flows. Secondly, that to the W.S.W. backed 
by the great valley leading to Meran, and the western 
division of Tyrol : and thirdly, that already alluded to, 
lying principally S. and S. W. A more beautiful scene 
can hardly be conceived. The whole forms one im- 
mense orchard and vineyard, interspersed with villages 
and detached buildings ; surrounded by mountains, for 
the greater part wooded to their summits, and with 
flanks spotted with churches, castles, and hamlets. 
The entire plain lies at an elevation of about twelve 



134 BOTZEN. 

hundred feet above the Adriatic. Of the mountains, 
those towering over the vale of the Eisack are the most 
striking", presenting many fantastic points of bare 
reddish rock, soaring high into the blue atmosphere, or 
mingling with the summer clouds : yet the whole of 
the chain to the S.E. though rather even in its out- 
line, is very bold and imposing, owing to the precipitous 
rocks near the summit, and the finely diversified forms 
of their flanks. The entrance of the Sarenthal is the 
least promising feature of the landscape, and by all 
accounts, it is a savage and uninteresting valley. Of 
the appearance presented by Botzen itself, little need 
be said. The lantern and short open gothic spire of 
the great church, are of no common beauty, but the 
square tower upon which they rise, is not happy in its 
proportions. Besides this, there is no prominent object 
of any note ; and, though the white plastered houses 
have always a good effect, especially contrasted with 
vines among which they rise, the colour of the dingy 
brown tiles is far from being pleasing. Inspruck is 
finely situated, but Botzen is already Italy ; and 
though the climate is subject to great extremes, the 
fruits of summer seem to suffer little. The fig, pome- 
granate, and citron, ripen toward the base of the 
hills, and the more ordinary products of the south are 
very fine and abundant. 

On descending to the town, I examined the interior 
of the church, which is in a heavy gothic style. It has 
aisles of the same height as the nave, or rather no 
aisles at all, and small lancet-shaped windows. But 
little of the interior detail is worth notice, though a 
stone pulpit of open gothic work is very fine. As far 



BOTZEN. 135 

as general symmetry goes, the church of the Francis- 
can monastery is more pleasing. In most quarters of 
the town, arcades are usual, and it possesses a further 
resemblance to Berne, in the streams of fresh water 
running through the centre of many of the streets. 
There is no public building of note. 

The following day found me occupation within doors, 
till the approach of evening drew me forth. Crossing 
the long wooden bridge over the stream called the Tal- 
ferbach, I turned into the route leading towards the 
upper valley of the Adige, but following it no further 
than the village of Gries, struck immediately towards 
the hill-foot beyond. A large cloister with the church 
attached to it, forms the most striking object of the 
village just named. The church, though spacious and 
splendid, is not as graceful as a gothic edifice attached 
to a convent situated closer to the base of the hills. 
Thence, turning to the right and keeping to the base 
of the hills, you reach the entrance of the Sarenthal, 
which is marked by a round tower ; and the scene 
would be picturesque, were it not for the scar pro- 
duced in the landscape by the wide, desolate, rock- 
strewn bed of the Talferbach, which occupies the whole 
of the fore-ground, not only towards the Sarenthal 
but to the west of the town of Botzen. The vast breadth 
of this bed, and the broad stone dykes of several yards 
in thickness, affording an elevated promenade, built on 
both banks, would astonish a stranger, unaccustomed to 
observe these mountain streams, and mark their varia- 
tions, when he notices the scanty brooks which at this 
season, choose a narrow and capricious path among the 
pebbles. In time of flood, it must be a terrific specta- 



136 BOTZEN. 

cle. As it is, no advantageous view can be taken of 
Botzen from this side ; for unless you advance close to 
this barrier, and the bed within it, you see nothing of 
the town ; and if you retire towards the rear, you 
become instantly buried in the vines. I may mention, 
that I have nowhere seen the vineyards so beautifully 
cultivated as in these plains ; the mode pursued being 
alike different from the pitiful currant- berry culture of 
Germany and France, and the wild negligence of Italy. 

To-day I was more struck with the magnificence 
of the country, which I had reached within so short 
a period after the horrors of Teferecken. The beds 
of the Adige, Talferbach, and Eisack, yield an abun- 
dant harvest for the geologist, as the furious torrents 
which pour down them in the spring, bring numerous 
fragments from the higher chains. 

There is rather an absence of shade in the vicinity 
of Botzen, unless you creep in under the vines. How- 
ever a pretty grove, at the termination of the wooden 
bridge over the Talferbach, seems to be planted to 
remedy this defect in some measure, and is a favourite 
resort of the inhabitants in the cool of the evening. 
The people of this valley are still German in language 
and customs, though all speak Italian. The sun-sets 
here are magnificently beautiful. During the twilight 
and earlier part of the night, the streets, arcades, and 
environs re-echo to the pleasing chaunt of various 
companies of craftsmen, who, sitting at their work, 
or resting from their day's labour in the open air, 
close the day in this manner. The melodious and 
correct strains of harmony, which arose from the dark 
corner of the arcades in which six or eight shoemakers 



THE VALE OF THE ADIGE. 137 

held their sittings, would have surprised most English- 
men, accustomed as they are, in their own country, 
to hear nothing worth the trouble, without paying 
extravagantly for it. The chorusses, chaunted by these 
humble and despised artizans, were sung in parts, and 
were solemn and truly harmonious in their character, 
and fully appreciated by a large audience of pleased 
listeners, myself included. 

On the second morning after my arrival at Botzen, I 
completed the various arrangements which had demanded 
a couple of days' pause in my tour, and took my depar- 
ture in the belief that my tortuous course would bring 
me a second time to this town, before the conclusion 
of my rambles. Some final preparations, had occupied 
the earlier hours, so that the sun was already high 
before I quitted my inn. 

My route lay across the Eisack-bridge, and over the 
foot of the Monte Calvario, into the lower valley of the 
Adige. To give some idea of a march of about nine 
leagues down the valley towards Trent, became, some 
hours later, the duty of the pen that had been riding 
at ease in my knapsack all day, while eyes, feet, and 
pole had been doing their duty. The road conducted 
me for many miles almost entirely upon a dead flat, 
now among rich meadows and vineyards, thickly co- 
vered with fruit trees, and then over marshy and less 
productive portions of the valley. Sometimes, never- 
theless, it meandered a little more than was pleasing. 
It keeps, however, quite to the left side of the vale, 
while the Adige, of which nothing is seen for several 
leagues, chooses the right. The view in that direction 
comprised the high wooded range of mountains termed 



138 BRANDZOLL. 

the Mendola, separating the vallies of the Adige 
from that of the Sole and Non, and an inferior and 
picturesque range, which divides the valley of the 
former into two parts, one containing the river and its 
flats, the other the interesting vale of Caltern. I 
almost repented not having made choice of the road 
leading through the latter, in preference to the heated 
and dusty grande route, upon which I was moving. 

As you advance, league after league, more Italian 
and little German is now heard. At Brandzoll, I made 
an hour's halt; but taking advantage of a breeze 
springing up about noon, set forward again. In this 
portion of the valley, it appears to the traveller that, with 
the exception of the road upon which he treads, 
he is buried in verdure, surrounded by green marshy 
flats, and mountains, which, though of considerable 
height, are covered with brushwood to their very crests. 
To reach the little village of Auer, you are forced to 
round a promontory advancing from the chain to your 
left, and thereby gain a very fine glimpse of the dis- 
trict from which you are gradually receding. The view 
commands the country as far as the entrance of the 
Sarenthal, the spires of Botzen and Gries, and especially 
the vale of Caltern, which is also exposed to view, by 
the abrupt termination of the lower range, hitherto 
separating it from the main valley of the Adige. But 
this is but for a short time, as the promontory just 
mentioned soon interposes itself between you and the 
scenery to the north. 

About this latitude, another symptom of approach to 
an Italian climate attracts the attention, namely, a vast 
number of mulberry-trees. The process of stripping 



THE VALE OF THE ADIGE. 139 

was proceeding in all its vigour. I felt much inclined 
to deplore the nakedness of the trees, till I understood 
that it was but once in the year, and that in fourteen 
days they would be better clothed than ever. Much 
silk is produced in this part of the valley. The trees 
seemed all comparatively young : for I nowhere saw 
any to be compared to the fine ancient vener- 
ably-distorted favourites, which are so carefully 
cherished in our old English gardens. The fruit 
seemed also of a much smaller size, and to be 
accounted a worthless production, much to the con- 
tent of swarms of two or three different species of 
dragon-flies, which with big eyes, and glittering 
wings, were very busy at work in the leafless trees, 
looking very jealous and fierce all the while. Little 
need to be said of the country about Neumarkt. 
The valley sensibly grows narrower, and the green 
hills and mountains show some bare and bold scalps 
and rocky slopes. Above a hamlet about two miles 
before you reach Salurn, a peculiarly huge, red, bare 
precipice presented itself, and continued to be a promi- 
nent object for several miles in the glow of the setting 
sun till the subsequent turns of the valley hid it from 
view. The position of Salurn is very romantic, built 
under the shelter of the mountains to the left, just at the 
point where they present a union of great fertility, and 
a savage and romantic character to which I thought 
I had long bid adieu. Its little Calvary, and chain 
of chapels leading up to it, glittered in the sunshine 
like a string of pearls thrown down upon the green 
mountain side ; and its castle may be considered among 
the most romantic in appearance and situation, that 



140 ST. MICHAEL'S. 

I had observed on this side the Brenner. It is 
perched upon a crag* apparently inaccessible, and over- 
shadowed by vast precipices. Who can see such a 
castle without thinking of blood and rapine, — nay, far 
from such associations being unnatural, you are fully 
prepared by the spectral appearance of the Castle of 
Salurn, to hear, and give credence to the fearful tales of 
supernatural wonder which are attached to it. You 
are told that the ruined and deserted statejn which it 
appears before you, has not been produced by the 
iron hand of war, but is the consequence of the visita- 
tions of spirits, whom no exorcism, however potent, 
has been able to dispossess. The next portion of 
the route, as far as the junction of the vale of Sole 
and Non with that of the Adige, is quite peculiar. 
The two ranges have now approached one another, 
and, as if in rivalry, present on each side such 
a line of singular precipices, as for form, colour, and 
outline, can hardly be matched. The river, now a 
powerful stream, and by no means stinted for a chan- 
nel, is here a principal feature in the scenery. The 
left hand ridge, however, shortly betakes itself to its 
old form of green undulating mountain and glen ; while 
the rival chain to the right continues to present its 
precipitous front, and trending round to the entrance 
of the Val di Non, forms a very noble mountain pile, 
commanding the entrance of both vales, and fronting the 
more southerly defile through which the Adige bears 
off their conjoined waters. The long vale of Sole and 
Non, which merges at this point into the valley of the 
Adige, lies between two high and picturesque chains, 
both ramificatious of the chain of the Great Ortler. It 



TRENT. 141 

is threaded throughout its entire length by the river 
Nos, and contains numerous villages and castles, with a 
population of 40,000 souls. The major part of the 
inhabitants are Italian in language and customs. This 
vale is a favourite resort of the citizens of Trent during 
the summer months, and I believe would well repay a 
visit. The sun had set by the time I had reached 
St. Michael's. This little town, the passage of whose 
roughly-paved streets brought my day's journey to an 
end, possesses a highly romantic situation, being posted 
very favourably on a gentle acclivity commanding a 
verdant and highly cultivated plain, watered by the 
Nos and the Adige, which stretches to the base of the 
girdling mountains, and the opening of the three vallies 
before-mentioned. We have now quite done with Ger- 
many, and Italian faces and architecture prevail more 
or less in every corner of the country. 

Levis does not strike me as well situated, though it 
contains some good buildings ; but perhaps I was dis- 
posed to judge unfavourably, upon finding that the 
road must make an angle of a full mile and a half to 
pass an ungovernable and capricious torrent. Such 
indeed is the river Avesio, taking its source from the 
distant glaciers of the Vedretta di Marmolata and the 
Campo della Salva to the eastward, and bursting at 
this point into the vale of the Adige. A large stone 
dyke is erected on both sides of the stream from the 
foot to the mountain, to protect the town and adjoining 
lands from its occasional fury. From thence to Trent, 
I will make one stride, as the walls and vineyards on 
the flat prevented an extended view ; and my entry 
into this city was made at an hour when the heat in 



142 TRENT. 

these vallies is so great, that thought itself is to be 
avoided, if you wish to retain the power of advance. 

To find an inn was of course my first object, but 1 
wandered about the town for some time, determined not 
to go to the Albergo Reale, where I should be treated 
either as a travelling pedlar and be spurned at, or as a 
prince in disguise, and made to pay accordingly : but anx- 
ious to discover a place of refuge, where either French 
or German were spoken. This I found to be no easy 
matter. Most of the people to whom I addressed 
myself, spoke nothing but Italian, and seemed to find 
a difficulty in understanding my efforts to be eloquent 
in that language. I felt angry at them at the time ; 
but now that I am cool and composed, am inclined 
to doubt the justice of so being, for to tell the truth 
without disguise, I do not believe I spoke the purest 
Tuscan. Fortunately enough, I fell at length into 
hospitable hands, and found a decent asylum close to the 
church dedicated to the Holy Virgin, where I obtained 
all that was necessary for rest and comfort. 

We will suppose the glare of day already passed, and 
that the sunbeams are streaming obliquely down the 
head of the mountains upon the fair valley of the 
Adige. My evening's stroll conducted me out of the 
eastern gate, and by a narrow pathway running up the 
hill-side at the back of the castle, led me gradually to 
a vine-covered height to the N. E. of the city. The 
city of Trent is of very high antiquity. It is believed 
to have been founded by the Etruscans at a period yet 
more remote than the building of Home, and was called 
Tridentum. Of its early history, but little is known. It 
fell successively under the power of the Romans, and 



TRENT. 143 

of the several invaders of Italy, to whom we have seen 
that its fertile valley offered an easy passage to the South. 
During the middle ages, it was the capital of a small 
territory governed by a spiritual lord, and indeed con- 
tinued so till a very late period. In the sixteenth cen- 
tury it became a point of great interest, from the cele- 
brated council held within its walls. The council of 
Trent was convened, as may be recollected, by the 
Emperor Charles V. and Pope Paul III, primarily at 
the instance of men of all opinions, to take into consi- 
deration the means of arresting the progress of the 
threatened secession from the Romish church, by 
adopting or disproving the doctrines of Luther ; and 
also to reform the corruption and licentionsness of both 
laity and clergy. From its first convocation in 1545, 
to the year 1563, when it was finally dissolved, eigh- 
teen years elapsed, and no less than five successive 
popes occupied the papal chair. It is well known, that 
neither of the objects in view were attained : and that 
continual dissensions among the heads of the council 
tended to further the cause of reformation, rather than 
arrest its progress. 

Trent lies in most a glorious situation on the left 
bank of the Adige, at a point where its waters make 
a sweep across the whole valley, from the base of the 
mountains in the East, to those in the West. The 
surrounding eminenecs are both commanding in their 
outline, and varied in their character, being for the 
greater part diversified by swelling knolls towards their 
base, and by richly- wooded flanks. Monte Vason rises in 
the West, and the Celva and Terra-rossa to the East. The 
bosom of the vale below the city, presents a finely-cul- 



144 TRENT. 

tivated tract, thickly covered with vines and fruit trees, 
here and there broken by a small portion of the grey 
bed of the Adige, as it meanders to and fro towards 
Roveredo. The ridges of the Monte Baldo bound the 
view to the southward. Glancing towards Levis, the 
Mendola is seen rearing its precipitous front over the 
charming vale of St. Michael's. 

The city itself lies at your feet, and has sufficient 
number and variety of towers to vary the monotony 
of the rooting, which is of the same dull brown tilings 
at Botzen. It appears to be fortified, from an embat- 
tled wall running entirely round its circuit, but is not 
so in reality. The castle is not well seen from this 
spot. It lies slightly elevated above the river, at the 
point nearest the spectator, but hidden by the vine- 
covered declivity to the left. The facade seen from 
the town side is rather imposing, though it presents a 
motley group of buildings in different styles. The nor- 
thern extremity would seem to be the most ancient. 
To turn to objects of note in the interior of the 
city : — and first, to the church dedicated to the Holy 
Virgin, being that in which the council of Trent was 
convened. It has been since quite renovated, for no 
one would be struck with the idea of its real age. It 
is built of reddish marble, of plain Grecian architecture, 
with pilastres, and a white- washed circular roof, but 
with neither aisles nor transept. The apsis is singular. 
It contains a large and ancient painting, representing 
the assembly of the Great Council. The organ is very 
good, and was still better before it was set on fire, 
twelve or thirteen years ago, by lightning. It stands 
on the right side of the high altar. The church is ren- 



TRENT. 145 

dered outwardly conspicuous by a high quadrangular 
tower, and pretty cupola. The Dohm or Cathedral is 
the largest, most regular and noble structure of the 
kind in Tyrol; something mixed in its architecture, 
but principally Byzantine. It consists properly of a 
long nave and side aisles, a short transept, and a cir- 
cular apsis ; but there are several additional erections 
attached to the main body. Among these, a chapel 
opposite the north porch is a blemish. A short tower 
and cupola rise from the centre, and a campanile from 
one of the angles of the west end. Ten finely clustered 
columns support the roof of the nave and the tower. 
Under the latter, there is a free standing high altar, 
with a noble marble canopy, supported by spiral 
columns. A great deal of detail, and among this many 
ancient tombs of the Bishops, is worth notice ; the pulpit 
is in horrible taste, and in shape just like an old nutmeg 
box. The Cathedral occupies the south side of the 
square, which has a good ornamental fountain in the 
middle, and on the eastern side a public building, 
with a high tower and fine quadrangular machicholated 
parapet. The other churches did not appear to me 
remarkable. In various parts of the town, as well as 
at the Castle, there is much in the way of old architec- 
ture to amuse a stranger. An indifferent wooden bridge 
leads to the right bank of the Adige, but one in a 
better style seems to have formerly existed there. 

The asses and mules make a fearful din in Trent. 
Moreover the streets resound with all kinds of games, 
sports, conversation and songs in the cool of the evening, 
and even after dark, and the people in general appear to 
be very gay. The custom of sleeping with open win- 

L 



146 TRENT. 

dows, without which no one can enjoy repose, gives me 
the full benefit of these popular pastimes. But, gentle 
reader, if you find it difficult to compose yourself to 
rest, you will find it still more impossible to indemnify 
yourself at early dawn, as it happens that at a most un- 
reasonable hour the good people of Trent begin to ring 
the bells of all the churches and convents in the city. 
If you take my lodgings, I warn you that those of 
Santa Maria Maggiore will not remain silent, and being 
at the very porches of your ear, will soon give you a 
thorough waking. 

Two roads to Padua now presented themselves : 
that the most commonly taken, and it is fair to add, 
the most diversified, following the vale of the Adige to 
Verona and Vincenza, lay straight before me, and had 
many charms. The Monte Baldo, the monastery of the 
Madonna dell a Corona, and the Lago di Guar da had 
long been alluring objects to my fancy, not to speak 
of Verona and the city of Palladio. Circumstances 
however made me decide to follow the shorter and 
less frequented road offered by the passage of the 
Monte Pergine, and the vale of the Brenta to 
Bassano ; and towards the close of the following day 
I quitted Trent, with my usual promptitude which I 
own sometimes has the air of a monstrous propensity 
for loco-motion. 

The continued and rapid ascent by which the road 
to Pergine makes its exit from the vale of the Adige, 
and the powerful and unclouded beams of the sun to 
which it was fully exposed, did not prevent my turning 
frequently to admire the splendid view of the city and 
vale which opened from the height ; doubly picturesque, 



PERGINE. 147 

at that hour, from the light and shade which the struggle 
of bright sun-beams with an approaching thunder-storm, 
cast upon it. Towards the top of the passage, the atten- 
tion is drawn to the ravine of the Fersina, whose open 
valley lies before you. The hills through which the 
river makes its way to its junction with the Adige, are 
of a more singular character, and present a strange 
mixture of curved and horizontal lines of bare grey 
rock, and the brightest verdure. The geological ar- 
rangement of the strata is extremely peculiar and 
puzzling. The village of Civezzano, on the side of the 
mountain above the vale of the Fersina, stands among 
a fertile and beautiful labyrinth of mulberry- trees and 
vines, intermixed with wheat and maize. The road 
from thence to the little town of Pergine, leads through 
a country which seemed luxuriantly fertile, and at this 
moment presented an unusually lively spectacle, from 
the peasantry being employed in stripping the innume- 
rable mulberry-trees which fill the space between the 
scanty mountain-stream and the hills. Their songs 
were uncommonly sweet, and possessed much of the 
Italian character. At Pergine I had not intended 
to halt, but happening to meet with an inn where the 
German language was spoken, thought the opportunity 
too valuable to be neglected, and took up my quarters 
there. Leaving all further description till another day 
dawns, I hasten to conclude my brief notice of a 
long, hot, and busy day. My solitary evening's meal 
was soon noticed by a long-backed, poodle kind of 
dog, belonging to whom I did not know ; but by his 
singular way of putting his fore paws together when 
begging, and his extraordinary thinness, I make no 

L 2 



148 PERGINE. 

doubt his master forced him in general to shift for him- 
self, and permitted him to run no chance of getting fat, 
whatever the household of which he was a member, 
might be allowed to do. The poor fellow ate the 
fish-bones and salad I bestowed upon him with infinite 
thankfulness ; and there was something in his whole 
demeanour and appearance which made me imagine that 
he could not only think, but think reasonably. His head 
was half grey and half black, his hair seemed combed all 
on one side, and his dark eyes were constantly in motion. 
Why I do not know, but he won so far upon my sym- 
pathies, that I finished by giving him the best my 
table could afford. The more I notice animals, the 
more I love and pity them. Let their nature be 
what it may, 1 feel that the whole animal creation 
suffers from the effects of man's iniquity, and is less 
happy than it would have been, had he never fallen. 

June 6th. — I quitted my quarters at about half-past 
four in the morning, undecided as to the term I should 
put to this day's march, but so much in awe of the 
heat in these southern vallies in the month of June, 
that I threw off slumber, at an earlier hour than usual. 
The sun was shining brightly on the summit of the moun- 
tain, but I was very glad to be spared his beams for the 
first few miles. My route lay towards Levico, over 
that tract of country which separates the valley of the 
Fersina from that of the Brenta. Indeed, though the 
road passes certain eminences, to reach that part of 
the vale where Levico lies, the fact is, that no hill 
separates the head of the latter from the former. 
The first mile of the upward route presents a series 
of beautiful views, which appear and disappear some- 



THE VALE OF THE BRENTA. 149 

thing like the scenes of a play, so quickly do they 
present themselves and retire. The first was the 
backward glance upon the fertile valley of the Fer- 
sina — the little town of Pergina lies at your feet — an 
imposing pile of mountain, comprising parts of the 
chains on both sides of the valley of the Adige, and 
the more fantastic summits in the distant Val di Sole. 
Then came a sudden and short-lived peep to the 
right, on the birth-place of the Brenta, and the upper 
end of the blue lake in which its waters first collect 
themselves. This vanished — and turning to the left, 
a gap in the hills gave a back view of the castle of 
Pergine, perched on its commanding rocky promon- 
tory. The mountains then closed round you, and you 
enter into a ravine, leading downwards towards the 
Brenta. I was going to say that this had nothing par- 
ticularly interesting to deserve description ; but I 
recollect that my eyes were most unexpectedly ar- 
rested in my passage, by no less a phenomenon than a 
field of potatoes, an object which I had not observed 
since my entry into the Tyrol, and which no Englishman 
can see with indifference. A second blue lake, em- 
bosomed in the hills, announced my approach to the 
Brenta, and I was shortly after ushered from the defile 
to the side of the mountains, on the left of his 
stream, and descended by an amusing road among the 
mulberry trees and vineyards towards Levico. 

I may remark, that with the sole exception of the 
vintage, a more favourable moment could not have 
been chosen for a walk through these vallies, as the 
gathering of the mulberry-leaves, upon which the 
whole population seem to be gaily employed, gave a 



150 THE VALE OF THE BRENTA. 

liveliness to every part of the road, and consi- 
derably heightened the effect of the scenery, and 
added to the amusement of the passenger. The 
bosom of this valley presented a forest of these trees, 
intermingled with vines ; and I may say, upon an 
average, that every fifth tree had its group of men 
and maidens in its branches, or on ladders, gathering 
its foliage in white linen cloths. Such a singing 
merry tribe, as the peasants of the Val Sugana (as 
this upper part of the course of the Brenta is called) 
I never met with before. Their songs were truly melo- 
dious, and the voices such as are only heard in the 
south. The general mode of chaunting is in two parts ; 
and accident seems to decide whether these simple har- 
monists sit in the same tree, or in different parts of the 
orchard. They seem to be chiefly inspired morning 
and evening. At noon, the cicala, that loquacious mem- 
ber of the locust-tribe, was the sole songstress audible. 

The village of Levico presents nothing remarkable. 
The three leagues from thence to Borgo di Val 
Sugana presents you with the view of a fine vale, 
surrounded with lofty and forested hills, seldom bare, 
but always interesting in the outline. The scenery at 
the turn of the valley beyond Borgo, and the situation 
of that town itself, as you descend upon it, with a 
castellated ridge running up from it towards the north, 
is all fine and interesting. At Borgo, I came to a halt. 

1 warn my pedestrian reader, that now and then he 
will meet with mishaps and misfortunes on his pilgrim- 
age, and moreover, that it is a curious fact, that even 
travelling mishaps never come single. I think I had my 
full share of them on the afternoon of this day, and as it 



THE VALE OF THE BRENTA, 151 

is always profitable and sometimes pleasant to recollect 
past trials, I will tell you which they were. Beyond 
Borgo, my map of the Tyrol was no longer of use to me, 
and I had consequently henceforth to grope my way with- 
out certain knowledge of the country. Moreover, I was 
grievously cheated by mine hostess : — again, two miles 
beyond Borgo, I was drenched to the skin — and immedi- 
ately after, roasted in a blaze of sunshine. — But this was 
not enough, — a false step produced a sprained foot, and as 
I had not a supernumary one among my extras, I had to 
hop about fifteen miles to Primolano. When, at length I 
arrived at this frontier village, recollecting that I was 
now over the Tyrol boundary, and in Italy, I thought I 
should not do amiss to agree beforehand with my hostess 
as to terms of lodging and refreshment, having al- 
ways been forewarned that no other way of proceeding 
was recommendable. Therefore in telling my wants, 
I attached to it a very civil phrase, beginning 
" Quanto" by which, however, I offended the signora 
and her whole household most grievously : and they 
pouted and flouted at me in consequence, the whole 
evening. I even fancied that the two blackamoor heads, 
which, with a wisp of hay, formed the inn sign, scowled 
in upon me at the window of the apartment with sym- 
pathetic ire. However I did not trouble myself much, 
but made myself at home in spite of them all. By 
what strange signification, or by what cross meaning, 
a wisp of withered straw, grass, or branch of fir, can 
be supposed to betoken good cheer, schnaps, and 
strong drink, I am at a loss to divine ; yet such is the 
universal sign of a cabaret in these countries. Closing 
this page of miseries, I must come to another of 



152 THE VALE OF THE BRENTA. 

description, for it cannot be supposed that my limping 
affected my eye-sight, or that I did not exercise my 
usual acuteness with regard to surrounding objects, 
because all did not run quite smooth : no, I can still 
tell what was the character of the country through which 
I passed from Borgo to Primolano. I have already 
mentioned that the valley of the Brenta turns more to 
the southward below Borgo. At the angle, it receives 
several tributary streams from the north and the N. E, 
and then flows between a double chain of limestone 
mountains, which are as singular for their outline, 
steepness, and general character, as any chain of that 
formation in the Alps : particularly opposite the village 
of Grigno, and in the immediate neighbourhood of a 
second hamlet lower down the valley. The vale cannot 
in this portion of its extent, boast of general fertility, as 
the rubbish brought down from the mountains, occupies 
at times much of its slopes and bosom, yet wherever 
earth is to be met with, there the mulberry and the 
vine have their usual post. There are villages, but 
rather wide apart, and drolly planted in the angles of 
the mountains ; such is Primolano at a point where 
the hills hem in the valley like a triangle, through the 
S. W. angle of which, as we shall see to-morrow, the 
Brenta makes it exit. 

It was something to have crossed the frontiers of 
Italy without having been descried by a white-coated 
douanier : and my surprise was augmented on observ- 
ing the impunity with which I advanced unnoticed into 
the country, over bridge and barrier, and through 
gate and ward. 

My quarters at Primolano were not such as to induce 



THE VALE OF THE BRENTA. 153 

me to remain longer than really necessary. An early 
hour therefore saw me escaping from the straggling 
village and entering the defile by which the Brenta 
continues its course for nearly sixteen miles without 
interruption. The first portion of this was much more 
savage and alpine in its character, than I had looked 
for in this quarter. The river rushes through a deep 
ravine under the shade of towering precipices ; and, in 
consequence of the obstructed character of the defile, 
the road is frequently carried to a considerable height 
above the river. At Cismone, a village posted in an 
angle of the mountains, where the Brenta receives 
the Vanoi, gliding from a singularly rocky ravine to 
the left, the valley becomes somewhat wider ; but 
still remains shut up between two high chains till it 
approaches the vicinity of the village of Vastagna. 
Here a fresh turn brings other scenery before the eye ; 
the mountains lie further apart and their slopes resume 
their verdure and wooded appearance, for, from the 
vicinity of Borgo, they had been comparatively sterile. 
The whole region appears thickly inhabited. Glancing 
back from near Pove, the entire valley presents the 
appearance of a scattered village. The edifices are of 
no common character; the churches especially have 
strikingly good facades, bespeaking at once a country 
where good models are frequently met with, and 
estimated. Beyond this, the mountains gradually 
decrease in height, and you approach those vast plains, 
which, with the exception of a few clusters of hills, 
stretch over the greater portion of Italy between the 
Alps and the Appenines. 

Towards the termination of the ravine, I noticed the 



154 CITTADELLA. 

first olives. From the ground at the foot of the 
mountains, you gain a view of Bassano, enclosed by 
walls, and lining the ridge of a gentle eminence above 
the plains. 

My recollection of this town is not the most agreeable. 
As far as I was able to discover, there were no public 
buildings of note, nor any objects which might claim my 
time and attention. In the course of the afternoon, 
therefore, I continued my route, gently but perseveringly 
towards Cittadella, a few leagues further, and entered 
its enclosure about sunset. 

Cittadella is, or rather was formerly, a kind of fortress, 
and still appears surrounded by nearly a circular moat 
and wall, though all in a state of decay. Its dilapidated 
gateways are picturesque. It would nevertheless ap- 
pear to be a thriving place from the quantity of 
new buildings in progress. Here the water drawn 
from deep wells is tolerable. I mention this because 
I had in the course of this day experienced the 
misery of the want of this necessary of life. Irrigation 
is well carried on throughout the whole district, and on 
either side of the road runs a powerful stream : but the 
water of the Adige is very impure at this season. The 
soil from the foot of the mountains to this point, is a 
coarse gravel, and then follows sand, and still less 
chance of fresh springs. The beds are excellent in 
Italy when clean, which they often are. What a dif- 
ference between the short packing case, into which you 
are forced to introduce yourself in the Tyrol and the 
stately and spacious pieces of furniture which fill the 
apartments of an Italian inn ! 

Sixteen miles beyond Cittadella lies the city of 



PADUA. 155 

Padua. To reach this before the heat of the day became 
excessive, was my object; and after a long walk, mostly 
in deep sand, I fulfilled it. The road was almost per- 
fectly level, and allows but little view beyond the verdant 
vines, mulberry and other fruit trees, for about an acre 
beyond the ditch on the side of the road : and to gain an 
extensive view was out of the question. The moun- 
tains I had quitted became fainter hour by hour. To 
the south, however, the modest outline of the Euganean 
hills and another group near Vincenza might be des- 
cried, when approaching Padua; and the distant appear- 
ance of the latter city with its numerous campaniles, 
and the domes and minarets of its principal churches 
gave interest to the landscape upon a near approach. 

. But the gate of the city is gained : the mountains 
are now far in the distance, and in adventuring myself 
into a region of such a very different character, and of 
such very different interest, I feel that both my pen 
and my footsteps may be going astray. Few, compa- 
ratively speaking, may have passed over the same 
devious paths which I have just been attempting to 
describe ; but here, upon the smooth and beaten roads 
of Italy, and in the picturesque cities and palaces of this 
southern land, English gold and curiosity sends forth 
a yearly stream of tourists, and among these a very 
considerable leaven of authors. I shall therefore 
announce at once that I have no wish to detail my 
recollections of much which may have come under 
my observation in this portion of my rambles. 



CHAPTER V. 



' Half-way up 
He built his house, whence, as by stealth, he caught 
Among the hills, a glimpse of busy life, 
That soothed, not stirred.— But, knock, and enter in. 
This was his chamber. — 'Tis as when he went ; 
As if be now were in his orchard-grove. 
And this his closet. Here he sat and read. 
This was his chair ; and in it, unobserved, 
Reading, or thinking of his absent friends, 
He passed away as in a quiet slumber.' 



The arrival of a stranger in an Italian city, showing 
by his air and eyes, that curiosity is an uppermost 
passion in his mind, and that he knows nothing and 
would know all, is a real godsend for an Italian 
cicerone ; and he thanks his patron saint for it accord- 
ingly. I am happy to say, that I know almost as 
little, personally speaking, of the Italian cicerone and 
domestique de place, as of the guide des Alpes ; and my 
reader need know no more. Previous reading, and refer- 
ence to memoranda, will render you pretty conversant 
with what is to be seen, even in a city like Padua ; and 
your first stroll should be to a library, where the acqui- 
sition of a plan of the city, will enable you to pilot 
yourself at your ease, and leave you leisure to think 
upon what you see, as you will be freed from the 
eternal parrot-like chatter of a cicerone. The princi- 
pal churches and adjacent streets should, I suppose, be 



PADUA. 157 

always your first objects, both from their real interest, 
and because it is important, in a large city, to gain 
a knowledge of the position of certain prominent land- 
marks, which may facilitate your more detailed ex- 
amination of its several parts. But to return to 
the cicerone : though I disclaim having been in fre- 
quent contact, yet his character is worth the study, 
when opportunity offers. His main duty and wish is 
to satisfy you in all and about all ; and if he be 
thoroughly accomplished, it is his determination also 
to do it at all hazards, He may know much or 
little ; and if not particularly well-informed yourself, 
you will never fathom the depth of his information. 
He will always have a remark at hand ; and depend 
upon it, you will ask him no question, however 
unusual, but he will find you an answer and a 
gesticulation. 

I have observed, that they are particularly sensitive 
at being supposed deficient in information concerning 
any point of historical tradition which gives local 
interest to their city. That the frequent inquiries of 
Englishmen after the truth of the tale of the fair and 
unfortunate Juliet and her Romeo, at Verona, should 
end in the discovery of the identical tomb in which she 
lay, was perfectly natural ; — and I do not doubt, but 
that the ciceroni of that city, if properly interrogated, 
would soon find you the ancient but indubitable 
lodging of the 'Two Gentlemen of Verona' also. 
If the reader should ever follow me to Padua, I request 
him, for old acquaintance' sake, to inquire at the uni- 
versity, after the chambers formerly occupied by the 
wizard doctor, Michael Scot, of romantic memory; 



158 PADUA. 

and I promise him that the glib old cicerone will soon 
ferret out his hiding-place, if he does not go so far 
as to produce you the rough copy of his ' boke of 
might.' 

I have been led to make these observations by re- 
collecting, that upon my taking up my hat to leave the 
hotel for a stroll, on the evening of my arrival at 
Padua, I was obliged to run the gauntlet between a 
double row of these personages, who elbowed each 
other and deafened me, in suing for my patronage. 

The city of Padua presents a singular spectacle to 
the eye of the traveller from the north. You thread 
its innumerable and gloomy arcades, traverse its narrow 
streets, and stand before the immense brick piles of 
dark semi- oriental architecture presented by its prin- 
cipal churches, with a feeling of both curiosity and 
wonder. 

But the reader must be aware of my having not the 
most distant intention of writing a guide book of the 
Italian cities, or even a book of reference. No labour 
of mine would add to what has been already so ably 
and frequently done. I can assure him that, in speak- 
ing slightingly of the ciceroni, I had no secret 
view to my self-interest, and not the least intention 
of offering my own services to supply their place. 
Here, and elsewhere, I may give some detached pic- 
tures of scenes which may rise before me, or of the 
impressions produced by them ; but I fear that they 
will be found to be often whimsically chosen. 
This observation may have been necessary, though a 
digression. 

Who has not heard of Saint Anthony of Padua, and 



PADUA. 159 

his miracles ? You here see his temple and the shrine 
dedicated to his worship : — a massive cluster of build- 
ings crowned with domes and minarets, arranged inte- 
riorly in the form of a cross, and containing tombs, 
paintings, and sculpture of high beauty and price. The 
Saint's day is at hand, and the chapel in which his body 
is entombed is crowded with pilgrims and devotees, and 
the high altar is a dazzling scene of splendour. Once in 
the year all eyes are turned towards it, and thou- 
sands kneel upon the threshold. All is preparatory 
bustle and devotion. The Paduan that has been mind- 
ful of his duty to his patron saint, during the past year, 
is rejoicing in his favour and the coming feast ; while he 
that has been neglectful of his duties in the interval is 
seen here daily in these preparatory hours fetching up 
old scores. 

To the bustle displayed in all parts of the church 
of St. Anthony, that of St. Justine presented a most 
impressive contrast. Its noble, spacious, and unadorned 
interior was silent as the depths of a forest, not a foot 
was to be heard upon the broad and beautiful marble 
pavement, nor a human form at devotion near the 
altars. An undulating and subdued resonance of dis- 
tant wheels and bustle in the great open space without, 
might be heard playing under the domes and in the 
superior parts of the lofty structure, but the impression 
conveyed by it was more allied to the sweep of a gentle 
breeze among the foliage, than the noise of a great 
city. 

The Cathedral is also a church of the first class for 
size and splendour ; but there is another less visited and 
perhaps less renowned, yet infinitely more curious to 



160 PADUA. 

which 1 would lead my readers. This is the Chiesa- 
Eremitani. It is situated near the ancient arena and 
forms one long chapel without aisles and transept. 
The roof is unsupported by pillars, constructed of 
wood, and of a very singular but clever design. The 
length according to a rough measurement by pacing 
may be about 240 feet, by 65 in breadth, not including 
the recess at the eastern end, that having a separate 
and lower roof. It is certainly the strangest building 
in Padua, and as an architectural curiosity appears to 
me to stand before the celebrated Town Hall, which 
though larger and measuring 332 feet long, by 116 in 
breadth, with a roof 119 feet in height, unsupported by 
free standing pillars, is infinitely less curious. 1 

The university was once a marvel, but is no longer 
so. Its number of students has dwindled down from 
10,000 to a very inconsiderable number. But no one 
can visit it without great interest. The massive 
gothic tower of the tyrant Ezzelin is a prominent 
object from many parts of the city, though situ- 
ated rather on the outskirts. It is now made use 
of as an observatory. Some palaces of note, and the 
botanic gardens, took up a portion of the two days suc- 
ceeding my arrival, in the intervals of brief but heavy 
thunder storms, which, brewing among the distant Alps 
or the nearer hills, came sweeping over the wide plains 
in their passage to the east. The reader might envy 
me my seat at night-fall, during one of these storms, 
in an elevated balcony, in close proximity to the two 

1 Westminster Hall measures 238 by 68 feet. The Great Hall of Padua 
has accordingly the advantage, as far as size goes, but is far inferior to the 
former in every other point of view. The roof is odious in comparison. 



PADUA. 161 

lofty campaniles of the university and the Town Hall, 
the former hallowed by the memory of the ' starry 
Galileo.' The glare of lightning and the roll of thun- 
der assort well with the architecture, and ancient 
fame of the city for the study of the occult and abstruse 
sciences. Padua has still a very large population, a 
numerous garrison and an equally large ecclesiastical 
corps. Shrines, flowers, and fruits are met with at every 
corner, and under every arcade. The latter are very 
various in their character, dates and form. Some really 
beautiful, others villainous specimens of the mason's craft. 

Innumerable minor churches and convents arrest the 
steps of a stranger in rambling through the city, some- 
times of a picturesque character, but in general sad 
dingy edifices both within and without. Little can be 
said of the river Bachiglione, which waters Vincenza and 
Padua; a sluggish, turbid stream, pent up in narrow 
streets, and spanned by narrower bridges. The Brenta 
pursues its course a little to the north. 

The approaching festival of the patron Saint of Padua 
thronged the city with numerous pilgrims. A whole 
week, commencing with the following Sunday, was to 
be distinguished by extraordinary ecclesiastical, the- 
atrical, public and private fetes. It is the carnival 
of Padua, and unites with a great annual fair, to turn 
the heads of the whole population. Every part of the 
city bore an air of bustle. Tailors and shoemakers 
were to be seen by scores under every range of arcades, 
as busy, as full orders and pressing customers could 
make them. But these brief hints and memoranda can 
have but little value to one whose footsteps have never 
wandered here. The sketch of my proceedings during 

M 



162 PADUA. 

two days of this week, may however, plead for more 
detailed notice. 

It had been my intention to unite a visit to the 
Euganean hills with that to Padua ; and the sight of a 
clear sky and brilliant sunshine early on the morning 
of the 10th, would certainly have been most eagerly 
hailed as indicating the propitious moment for com- 
mencing that excursion ; — the more so, as this oppor- 
tunity neglected, it would be very difficult to accom- 
plish it. But was not my mind a prey to that vile 
tormentor, indecision ? This had been produced, by my 
having been informed, late the preceding evening, that 
this day was the festival of Corpus Christi ; and that, 
notwithstanding the proximity of the far greater 
fete of San Antonio di Padova, it was intended to 
celebrate it with becoming splendour ; by much 
military, civil, and ecclesiastical parade, and by many 
observances, which, however a protestant may condemn, 
do not, nevertheless, shock him so grievously, that 
he cannot stand and stare with admiration. He 
will see and hear all that is possible, and to do so 
more at his ease, will elbow his catholic neighbour into 
the bargain. I had previously come to an irrevocable 
conclusion, not to stay in Padua to be led away by 
the vanities of St. Antonio two days hence ; so there 
was so much the more reason that I should indulge 
myself this day. Yet the distant hills ! — the very idea 
was delicious and refreshing, compared with the hurry, 
and dust, and din of a city festival. It was, gentle 
reader, a dreadful struggle ; may you never be troubled 
with a similar one. One moment my ears were filled 
with the song of birds and the gush of waters ; the 



PADUA. 163 

perfume of flowers was in my nostrils, and my fancy was 
ravished with the idea formed of those wild volcanic 
hills, the thought of Petrarch, — not to speak of Laura, 
sentiment, poetry, and all that. The next moment, the 
birds were all frightened away by the burst of choral 
harmony which rose on my fancy — the odours from the 
censer overpowered the perfume of flowers, while the 
gorgeous procession, and the gazing multitude, soon 
elbowed Petrarch and Laura out of the way. Then came 
the reaction — but at length wearied out, I resolved 
upon a middle course, in general a very bad alternative, 
but in the present instance, a completely successful one. 
The bells, the bustle, and the bright sun fairly roused 
me from my table where I had perseveringly sat 
writing from six till about nine, and brought me out 
into the street. The main point of attraction seemed 
to be the open square before the principal municipal 
edifices, and thither I proceeded with the living tide 
that set strongly towards that quarter. I found the 
centre overshadowed by a broad awning resting upon 
a range of wooden arcades erected for the occasion, 
extending from a temporary high altar at the upper 
end of the square, to the other extremity, whence it 
was carried further to the great west door of the cathe- 
dral, in a street not far distant. I may as well at once 
add, that this kind of awning was further continued 
from the south entrance of that structure through the 
streets for about a quarter of a mile, till it merged 
into the main square, and near the above-mentioned 
high altar: so that the procession leaving the church 
by the south door, would finally re-enter it by the great 
western entrance. 

M 2 



164 PADUA. 

Those who have never seen an Italian city on the 
day of fete, — and here devotion and festivity seem to be 
very nearly allied, — would form but a very faint idea 
of the scene presented by the great square. The inte- 
rior and the arcades were filled with the military, and 
the populace both of the city and neighbourhood : 
while every window in the surrounding edifices 
was thronged with the fair forms of the giddy and 
loquacious dames of Padua, leaning forward upon 
tapestry and drapery of every imaginable colour which 
hung far over the window sills, and concealed the wall 
below them. In short, the entire square was converted 
into a spacious theatre. Near the high altar stood 
many gorgeously gilded and carved shrines of the 
Madonna, brought from various parishes to garnish 
and add to the glitter of the spectacle. Their presence 
seemed however to have but little influence upon the 
dense cluster of people of the lower class around 
them, and ribaldry and laughter was the order of the 
day. All being stationary in the square, I mined my 
way to the cathedral, listened to the sweet strain of 
solemn harmony which accompanied the exit of the 
last division of the procession from the spacious edifice, 
and forced my way back again to the square to await 
the progress of the ceremony. I feel some remorse of 
conscience at the recollection of the manner in which, 
by dint of striving and elbowing, and looking curious 
and good-humoured in the face of the good people 
whom my efforts displaced, I contrived to push myself 
close to the altar, and, what was of the first consequence, 
under the shade of the awning. 

This was no sooner effected, than the leading files 



PADUA. 



165 



of the procession entered the square, and began their 
progress under the covered way : and for the succeed- 
ing half-hour it continued to pass before me, It would 
be both wearisome and vain to attempt to describe the 
varied but motley divisions of this festal train, as 
they in turn appeared and disappeared, In short, it 
consisted of all the religious orders of the city, appa- 
rently many hundred children, educated by the chari- 
ties of the same, the vestries of the several parishes, 
chapters of the various churches, the great municipal 
and civil authorities, officers military and civil, inter- 
mingled with some hundreds of magnificent crucifixes, 
and thousands of tall tapers which shed their tears of 
wax and tallow upon the gay embroidered vestments in 
appalling profusion. The garments of many of these 
divisions were extremely costly and beautiful. Some 
occasional chanting accompanied the progress of the 
files under the covered way, but its character was 
in general but indifferent, till, after long expectation, 
the approaching volume of sweet sound rising from the 
choristers of the cathedral, announced the near vicinity 
of the closing division. 

The service chanted by these choristers was ex- 
tremely good and solemn, and they supported their 
several parts admirably, in spite of the heat, dust, and 
the long walk. After them came the authorities of 
the city, arranging themselves as they entered the 
covered way, upon seats prepared near the foot of the 
altar. The officiating ecclesiastic bearing the golden 
Pix, supported by two of his brethren, moved last, 
under the shade of a magnificent canopy of gold lace 
and fringe, borne by eight bearers. 



166 PADUA. 

Having reached the temporary high altar, he as- 
cended the steps and performed a short mass. During 
this interval, silence reigned in the great assemblage, 
and all wore an air of devotion till after the elevation 
of the host. A general genuflexion concluded this 
division of the ceremony. There was yet one fine coup 
d'ceil at the return of the procession to the cathe- 
dral ; and that was presented by the interior of that 
spacious edifice, at the moment when the aged priest 
and his immediate attendants preceded by the choir, 
entered the great west door. The multitude forming the 
various parts of the procession, were then all collected 
within its walls, and were ranged in two broad lines the 
whole length of the nave, with their innumerable tapers, 
kneeling as the Pix-bearer advanced, and continuing 
in that posture till he bad ascended the steps of tbe 
great altar. The organ then burst forth and accompa- 
nied the choir in a strain of triumphal harmony, the 
smoke of the censer rose from the altar, and after 
receiving the parting benediction, the whole assembly 
dispersed. In a quarter of an hour very few signs 
were left of the fete, except the swarming streets, the 
stripped altar in the square, a party of soldiers returning 
to quarters, or a troop of monks, with a shrine of the 
blessed Virgin trotting soberly home to their place of 
rest. If I am asked whether I was satisfied, I must in 
truth answer No ! I had been excited, smothered with 
heat and dust, had had my eyes and ears tickled as 
they would have been in a theatre : but no portion of the 
ceremonial had been productive of devotional feeling in 
my breast. I was dissatisfied with the Paduans, and 
still more with myself. It is not the most pleasant 



MONSELICE. 167 

position, though a thoroughly protestant one, to stand 
conspicuously erect, while all others kneel. I thought 
that by pretending to be engaged with observing the 
' church over the way,' I had both satisfied the feelings 
of others and my own, but cannot believe that I did 
either. I was tired, and when made to understand 
that fine as it all was, St. Anthony on Sunday would 
far surpass every thing here witnessed, I congratulated 
myself that I should be out of the reach of the noise, 
heat and bustle. The ceremonial was over about 
eleven o'clock, and long before noon the city, crowds, 
dust and heat were behind me. The sky was cloudless, 
and the rays of the sun powerful, yet the road was 
elevated above the general level of the country, and 
the canal bank upon which I walked several feet above 
that. Moreover, a sweet breeze blowing gently from 
the hills to the southward, towards which I was now 
bending my thoughts and my steps, rendered the mid- 
day commencement of my ramble far from disagreeable. 
To reach Monselice, a distance of about twelve miles, 
S.E. E. was the proper object of my afternoon's ramble. 
I had reason to believe that there might be a shorter 
way to Arqua, but a few miles' round was no great 
object. At all events, I should have the whole of the 
morrow to see what I wished, and return to Padua ; 
such was my project. The road for many miles ran 
through the plains and was no way remarkable, I there- 
fore turn to the Euganean hills towards which I made 
rapid approach. They resemble our Malvern at a dis- 
tance, in no slight degree. Avoiding the northernmost 
extremity of the cluster, the route, which is that leading 
to Este, Legnano and Mantua, bears directly for the 



168 MONSELICE. 

southern, and first touches upon them at the village of 
Battaglia. I had seen many country seats upon the road, 
the greater part very indifferently posted, and in great 
want of repair, and I think the very first that had any 
thing really palaceous about it was at this point, a little 
before the entrance to Battaglia. A castellated detached 
hill, which had long been a landmark, proved eventually 
to mark the position of Monselice, about three miles 
beyond the last mentioned village. Towards the latter 
part of my walk the sun had become in some measure 
obscured by the rising and thickening of a mass of 
vapour to the southward, which seemed to promise a 
renewal of the thunderstorms, and left me quite unde- 
cided for a while as to the manner in which I should 
pass a long evening. Upon my arrival at Monselice 
however, after some consideration, hearing that Arqua 
was now only three miles distant, I resolved to repair 
to it before nightfall. I inquired my road, notified my 
intention of return, and crossing the canal which had 
been my right hand neighbour from the gates of Padua, 
I quitted the dusty high road, for the green lane which 
should lead me to Arqua. I will not forestall the 
observations which I was enabled to make with more 
exactness and effect on the morrow, by penning down 
much of my evening's stroll and proceedings. Thus 
much may I say, that, in that calm and stillness which 
reigns throughout the landscape, when a thunderstorm 
is gathering and deepening upon the distant country, I 
tracked my way to the simple mountain- village, and 
having paid my first visit to the tomb, fountain, and 
former dwelling of Petrarch, returned to my night 
quarters, fully bent upon a second. The thunderstorm, 



ARQUA, 169 

after long darkening the wide plains and their cities, 
seemed to follow the line of the Adige towards the 
distant Adriatic ; and by the time I had regained Mon- 
selice, the setting sun was lighting up the old embattled 
walls, cypresses, and towers of the picturesque hill 
which overlooks it. 

June Wth. — The following morning dawned without 
a cloud. It was worthy of an Italian summer, one 
of those upon which every natural object seems 
beautiful, and every rural sound musical. 

In taking another line of route, I am in no dan- 
ger, in my description, of committing a plagiarism 
from those who have gone before me. The more 
ordinary pathway to Arqua, is that which Lord 
Byron describes. It turns off between Battaglia and 
Monselice, and instead of rounding the southermost 
base of the mountains, crosses an inconsiderable ridge, 
and falls directly upon the little angle of the hills 
where Arqua is situated. The high road from Mon- 
selice to Este passes straight through the town, and 
avoiding the hills, stretches onward into the wide 
plains to the south-west. Leaving it to the left, 
and crossing the canal, the traveller is soon con- 
ducted into a narrow lane running round the base 
of the hills, and bordered by hedges, over which the 
surrounding country may however be distinctly de- 
scried. The first thing that struck me was the pro- 
fusion of that beautiful shrub, the pomegranate, whose 
scarlet flowers and bright green leaves seem too beautiful 
for our zone. Of this the hedges are in general com- 
posed, together with other shrubs but little known in 
our country. The lane, by following the bend of the 



170 ARQUA. 

hill, soon turns more to the northward ; and, shortly 
you find yourself rounding- a tongue of level ground, 
which, running up from the plain to the southward, 
insinuates itself pretty deeply into the bosom of the hills 
by which it is on three sides surrounded. At the 
upper end appears the church, tower, and scattered 
village of Arqua, half-embosomed in trees. 

This little secluded plain is thickly planted, and has 
a singular appearance from the regularity with which 
the peasant disposes of the ground in this country, 
in alternate rows of trees, vines, and maize. The hills 
which surround you are various in shape. Three 
conical summits appear over some inferior heights ; two 
of roundish form overlook the village, and the same is 
the case on the side from which you approach. To the 
south, the horizon deepens into the blue indefinite 
tinge, assumed by the distant and apparently intermin- 
able plains stretching to the Appenines. The hills are 
not generally fertile ; the dwarf trees and brushwood 
occupy only portions of their declivities, and the 
reddish schistose rock peeps out continually among 
the scanty herbage. On reaching the village, the 
first object that attracts your attention, is the church, 
perched on the rocky knoll near the bottom of the hill. 
Petrarch's fountain springs nearly at the foot of the 
steps that lead up to it. On ascending the latter, into 
the small enclosure in front, the only object, I may 
say, that meets your view, for there is no other tomb 
there, is the tomb of the same celebrated man, a plain 
red marble sarcophagus, raised upon four square pillars 
of the same material, and pretty well covered with 
half-defaced inscriptions. The laurels which Lord 



ARQUA. 171 

Byron mentions, must long ago have perished, as four 
youug sickly-looking saplings, apparently but just 
planted, seem to be but fruitlessly contending with 
the heat of the bare and unsheltered church-yard. 
From the church, you climb the rough stony road 
through the village, to the summit of the little ridge 
behind — pass another small turreted chapel, descend 
to almost the last house upon the opposite side of the 
hill, and are introduced through an arched gateway, 
into a small court-yard, or garden, half choked with 
vines and weeds. Here stands the house of the poet. 
You ascend a vine-covered staircase, running up from 
the left side of the front, to a small open stone 
balcony or porch, and thereby enter the hall. Pe- 
trarch's favourite apartments lie on the left hand, 
and consist of an outer room, and two interior 
ones of small dimensions, particularly the more 
remote, which was the poet's study, and is little 
better than a closet. Here he was found dead in 
his chair. This venerable worm-eaten relic, of carved 
wood, as well as his book-chest, are exhibited in the 
neighbouring apartment. The mummy of his cat, — 
for Petrarch, like all good and wise men, loved dumb 
animals, and chiefly his cat, — dignified by an in- 
scription, is seen over one of the interior doorways. 
The house is uninhabited, but care is nevertheless 
taken of it. Your cicerone is a blackeyed laughing 
peasant girl. 

Arqua is still, wonderful to tell, a simple unspoiled 
village, with no inn, and no traps and gins to catch the 
travelling pilgrim, and spoil the simplicity and poetry 
of the associations and impressions left upon his mind. 



172 A.RQUA. 

An album is kept in the house ; but from it the visitors, 
appear to be principally Italians. This is also far from 
being displeasing. Some English names also appear 
on its pages, but, comparatively speaking, there are 
few. All do not visit the shrine with equal devotion — 
this is very evident ; and though sufficiently inclined 
to be solemn and sentimental myself, I could not for- 
bear laughing at some matter-of-fact observations, 
both in prose and verse, which met my eye. 

From the windows of Petrarch's apartments, you do 
not look toward Monselice. You see a little level vale 
running up from the plains, surrounded by inferior ridges 
and hills, one of which, perfectly conical, is exactly oppo- 
site ; and a distant view of the wide flat horizon before 
described. Under the balconied window of the princi- 
pal apartment, runs a deep shady lane between the 
gardens ; and a vast quantity of the finest shrubs of the 
pomegranate, seem to have gathered themselves about 
the house. My morning visit was here long and amus- 
ing : I rambled to every part of the village and its im- 
mediate environs, and spent a considerable time in the 
house, before I began to form my plan of return to 
Padua, to which I determined to devote the whole 
day ; taking full leisure, and following my wish to get 
better acquainted with the cluster of hills, which, for 
the most part, now lay between me and the city. I 
was furnished with no map, and therefore made it an 
object to gain a position which would give me every 
advantage, and supersede the necessity of such a guide. 
The two mountains, — or I should rather keep to the 
term hills — to the northward, seemed to offer the best 
point for the attainment of this object, and I accord- 



THE EUGANEAN HILLS. 173 

ingly traversed the upper part of the village, and 
began the first ascent, that which was to bring me upon 
the ridge connecting the more elevated and westerly, 
with its partner to the eastward. This was no very 
difficult matter, and took but little time in accomplish- 
ing. Very little wood is to be found on these acclivi- 
ties ; but at a moderate height, the soil seems peculiarly 
adapted to the growth of a certain species of cherry 
of peculiar flavour, and the dwarf trees which bear it 
are so numerous, and the fruit so wonderfully abundant, 
that at a distance the hill side had quite a reddish tinge 
from them. Having gained the ridge, the next object 
was to make my choice between the greater and lesser 
eminence, and being ambitious, I very naturally chose 
the former. I climbed towards the summit, which was 
certainly not more distant from me than two hundred 
yards, when, before I was aware, I had to confess 
myself vanquished, and to give up the idea. At a cer- 
tain elevation, I found the hill clothed with a matted 
and twisted thicket of strong prickiy brushwood : and 
after attempting again and again to force my way 
through this obstacle, I was fairly obliged to retreat. 
Considerably chagrined and somewhat crest-fallen, I 
returned to the connecting ridge and into the wood 
of cherry-trees. Here I was beckoned to, and in- 
vited by a family of good-humoured peasants, to 
eat my fill of their ripe and tempting fruit. I shall 
not forget their hospitable manner or friendly faces. 
Then making the best of what I thought was a lost 
case, I doggedly ascended the secondary height. But 
I could not remain satisfied : the view I gained from 
this elevation was certainly of no common character, 



174 THE EUGANEAN HILLS. 

yet its more lofty neighbour hid one quarter of the 
landscape from my view, and would, if conquered, yield 
a yet wider horizon. Again, at this distance, the latter 
looked so smooth and tempting, so shaven and shorn, I 
could distinguish no brushwood, though I was yet 
smarting from the thorns ; and I determined upon 
another attempt, though I should have to go completely 
round to effect my purpose. When a man sets about 
an enterprize in the temper I was then in, few things are 
impossible. I will abridge my relation by saying, that, 
after many a stumble, and a grievous struggle, in which 
skin and clothes both suffered, I contrived, knife in hand, 
to cut a passage ; and at length found myself perched 
upon the very top, upon the solid base of a little mass 
of grey rock, which most opportunely peeps out of the 
brushwood on the summit : and in contemplation 
of a view, which for extent, interest, and colouring, 
surpasses description. That from the Madonna del 
Monte at Varese, fine as it is, must yield to this from 
the summit of this Euganean hill. 

Come, and take your stand by me ; there is just room 
for two upon this little rock, as long as there is friend- 
ship between us ; and I will point you out the parts of 
this vast and apparently boundless expanse ; how vast ! 
when we consider the little earth that must suffice for 
man ; how confined ! if we think of the morbid craving 
of his ambitious desires. 

First our position, on the head of one of the most 
southerly of those hills, which, forming several de- 
tached and irregular clusters, of one, two, or more 
roundish or conical summits together, separated by 
spaces nearly level with the surrounding plains, plainly 



THE EUGANEAN HILLS. 175 

seem to declare their volcanic formation. None can 
tell the tale of their birth, or date the hour when they 
first broke through the surface of the heaving plain in 
the midst of thunder and smoke. The very tradition 
has vanished, of the time when these hills were a beacon 
to the wanderers upon the distant Adriatic ; or to tribes 
that gazed afar from the towering Alps. Perhaps the two 
or three summits to the N. W. of us, are higher than that 
upon which we stand. Beyond them you see another 
group less marked in outline, and are in doubt whether 
they are attached to these, or to the Alps, whose blue out- 
line appears immediately to the N.N.W. To neither ; — 
they are also a detached group of like formation, the 
Monti Berici near Vincenza. Take the portion of horizon 
occupied by our Euganean hills, the Berici and the Alps 
beyond, from the vast circle, — and they do not occupy 
one fourth of its circuit, — and what remains ? One 
boundless interminable plain, fertile to excess ; stretch- 
ing far, far, far as the eye can distinguish the differing 
colours of earth and sky : towns and white villages ; 
here distinct with their tall church towers, there a long 
white streak, or a dot faintly seen at the distance of 
many long leagues. Now look more to detail. The 
long and imposing range of the Tridentine Alps fall off 
to the N.E. and melt into the distance ; — those towards 
the extremity are the mountains of Friuli. Then what 
do you see over the nearer city of Padua, which lies in 
the middle ground, with its many-domed churches glis- 
tening in the morning sun ? The commencement of a 
thread of silver which we follow far to the eastward. 
That is the Adriatic, and the dark line with which it is 
interwoven soon after it becomes visible, studded with 



176 THE EUGANEAN HILLS, 

points yet darker 1 that is Venice* Venice the beauti- 
ful ! whose nobles were princes, and merchants the great 
of the earth ! I see her domes and her many towers, 
and the lofty campanile of St* Mark. More to the 
southward you lose the silver thread : but look steadily 
into the blue haze on the horizon, and what do you 
observe 1 A long faint line of yet deeper hue : — true, 
that is the chain of the Appenines ; they die away com- 
pletely as you turn more to the westward ; and the 
wide plains, with their cities, fill the remainder of the 
vast panorama. 

Look again and again, — we are well paid for our 
scramble, rough as it was ; yet before we turn to 
descend, seeking an easier pathway on the side opposite 
to that we mounted, look once again at the foot of the 
hills. There lies Arqua, with its church and foun- 
tain ;— a little further to the right, the roof of Petrarch's 
dwelling; — to the left, the foot-road leading from thence 
towards Battaglia, and a little lake that glistens below 
almost the only piece of water between us and the 
wide sea ; for, though the Brenta, the Bachiglione, 
the Adige, the Po, and their innumerable canals and 
offsets, all wind their way through the fertile garden 
before us, they are buried beneath that maze of vine- 
yards and orchards. Is not this earth still a paradise ? 
But the day advances, for the sun has nearly reached 
his meridian, and though the innumerable insects, 
and butterflies, and lizards that throng these thickets, 
may rejoice in his great heat, we shall do better to 
avoid it. Besides I want to get to the region of the 
cherry-trees. 

My object was now to return to Padua by a circuitous 



THE EUGANEAN HILLS. 177 

route, comprising as much of the hilly country as pos- 
sible ; and therefore, in descending the side of the emi- 
nence, exactly at right angles to the situation of the 
city, and keeping in the same direction for some time, I 
found I was in a fair way to fulfil it. The peasants of 
the Euganean hills impressed me very favourably ; I 
have no where met with more simple and civil villagers. 
From my casual observation, I think that a botanical 
tour in this region would be very well repaid, having 
in the course of my ramble, laid hands upon at least 
a dozen plants which, to my knowledge, are neither 
Alpine nor English. I used to be a beetle-hunter, 
and know something about the most approved mode 
of transfixing them ; this makes me still rather atten- 
tive to the hum of insects, and I think I might promise 
the followers of that humane pursuit no bad harvest 
either. To the geologist, it may be easily supposed 
that they present an agreeable and interesting study. 
Basalt and lava are to be seen here and there. My 
homeward road was one which I can scarcely describe, as 
the names of the villages through which I passed were 
unknown to me ; but may say, in short, that after a very 
interesting ramble of several hours through a great 
portion of the group, I found I had managed matters so 
completely to my heart's desire, as to reach the plain 
towards Padua, upon the road to the baths of Abano, 
which 1 had wished to fall in with, though with only 
a general idea of their position. They were known and 
celebrated by the Romans under the names of Aquas 
Aponi and Fontes Patavini. They owe their virtue 
to a very powerful series of hot springs strongly im- 
pregnated with sulphur, which rise upon a kind of 

N 



178 VENICE. 

mound, composed of a mass of matter of their own de- 
posing-, about two miles from the base of the Euganean 
hills. I should say that they were very hot, by the 
fore finger of my right hand having- been parboiled, 
upon my converting it into a temporary thermometer. 
The general heat is however about 110 degrees. The 
baths look wonderfully polite places, and plenty of 
cafes, lodging and lounging houses prove that they 
are fashionable, whether they are efficacious or not. 
They lie about seven miles S.S.W. from Padua. 
From hence I soon gained the canal-bank, and about 
six in the evening re-entered my hotel, after a ramble 
of uncommon interest. 

What between the saint and the horses, great num- 
bers of which crowded the streets, I found the city 
in a perfect ferment. There was little or nothing to 
detain me in the neighbourhood of Padua, and I lost 
no time in proceeding to the shore of the Lagune, 
and thence to Venice. 

The further pause of a week followed my arrival in 
that beautiful city : and he reader need scarcely be 
told that it was most fully occupied. My object in 
coming hither was more to see Venice herself, than to 
mingle in the society of her children, and my personal 
solitude consequently remained unbroken. And now 
on looking back to the scenes and events of that week, 
they appear more like those which come and dis- 
appear with a dream. Venice has been in all times the 
wonder of the traveller, a study for the painter, and 
the theme of the poet and the romancer ; and circum- 
stances have rendered it doubly so in these latter times. 
The names of its canals, bridges and palaces, are now 



\ EN ICE. 179 

as familiar amongst us as the appellatives attached 
to the quarters of our own overgrown and prosaic 
metropolis. Nevertheless, the advantages of leaving 
a brief record of his visit in indelible print, is too 
tempting even to a pedestrian, and he again calls upon 
his familiar to be present with him. 

We will spend together one summer's morning at 
Venice : — particularly as an edict, not of the Ten, but 
of the Austrian police, forbids my ascent of the Cam- 
panile of St. Mark, as long as I am unattended, lest I 
should be tempted to follow the example of two un- 
happy beings, who have recently made that elevated 
tower subservient to self-destruction. 

The first sound that breaks upon morning slum- 
ber in my Venetian dormitory, is the whistle of a 
thrush, suspended in a cage at the lattice of a neigh- 
bouring window. From the dreaming recollection of 
forest glades, which these sweet notes instil into the 
brain, I am more completely roused by the scream of 
the early water-carriers ; for though you will see fre- 
quent wells in the city, the fresh water must all come 
from the main ; and is brought in vast tubs — three or 
four in a boat, expressly arranged for their reception. 
Then come the fish-criers, — and all the cats begin to 
scamper from the roofs ; for as mice and rats are 
scarce, these are their purveyors, and they all know 
it. Afterwards the milk-criers. This necessary ar- 
ticle, also brought from the neighbouring coasts, is 
generally contained in green glass bottles, and is, I 
believe, quite as difficult to get perfectly pure as 
' about town.' Fourthly, come the cat-sellers, that 
animal being an article of commerce in this city ; 

N 2 



180 VENICE. 

and then the chime and jingle of innumerable bells, 
contending with a hubbub of indistinct sounds, which 
continues for some time, but ceases gradually as the 
day advances, leaving the ear in comparative tranquil- 
lity ; except when that is broken by the shrill cry of 
Aqua fresca ! 

I will suppose that having been soothed by the song 
of the thrush, and thoroughly awakened by the cry 
of the water-carrier, we lose patience at the call of 
the fish-vender, and rise to begin the day. A peep 
from our lattice shows us a blue sky above, a jumble of 
unequal roofs, and a cluster of tall ornamented chim- 
nies, tipt with the light of the morning sun. Below, 
you look down into a narrow canal, traversed by a 
narrower bridge, leading into a court, whence most 
of the sounds enumerated have been borne to your ear. 

Come ! the angel on the Campanile of St. Mark has 
long had the sunbeams upon his wings, and the morning 
will never be too long in Venice. 

The passage of a bridge, and of a few narrow streets, 
ushers us into the Place of St. Mark, that beautiful 
area, upon whose wide and decorated pavement, as 
upon a splendid theatre, scenes of such opposite char- 
acters were wont to be performed. 'Twas now one 
widely laughing masquerade, swarming with heedless 
thousands — and anon, a place of execution, upon which, 
the awards of a dark and mysterious tribunal caused 
blood to flow, and torture to be inflicted, none knowing 
why, or wherefore : — gorgeous processions — tourna- 
ments — the bridegroom and the bride — and again the 
executioner and his mangled victim — now a slave, and 
then the noblest of Venice. 



VENICE. 181 

At this day and hour, this beautiful area is deserted : 
a few early loungers, like ourselves, may be seen 
sipping their coffee, under the blue awnings before 
the casinos, and now and then a figure glides from 
between the clustered columns of the Church of 
St. Mark ; but the little cloud of pigeons, that dwell 
among the friezes and pinnacles of that wonderful 
edifice, are not yet to be scared from their morning 
meal on the pavement of the square. 

We gain the open gallery of the Campanile. Look 
around : would not this scene alone recompense us for 
all the toil of our pilgrimage, for the snows of the 
Julier and Teferecken, and the stagnant heat of those 
deep southern Tallies ? Surely there is nothing on earth 
to be compared to Venice. A mighty and populous 
city with its thousand churches and palaces, in whose 
construction the richest marbles are lavished, as though 
of no price and rarity — rising from the barren sand 
of the sea ! Remark those tributary isles, spread 
abroad far and near with their steeples and convents, 
and the long streams of living light and colour 
which chequer the surface of the waters. Far and 
wide reign the signs of a vigor, which though long 
past the prime, has left too many tokens of force to 
be forgotten, and of beauty of too peculiar a cha- 
racter not to be regarded with delight. Those many 
and brilliant colours contrasted with the hues of the 
Adriatic, the distant Alps and the blue sky — what 
painter's art can imitate ! And who, standing upon 
this Campanile, with that glorious, but deserted pic- 
ture at his feet, and the Lagune slightly chequered 
with larger and smaller craft around him ; can do 



182 VENICE. 

otherwise than cast his thoughts back to Venice in her 
day of glory, and strive to represent to himself what 
she was then ? Her spacious port crowded with vessels 
of war and commerce — the strand of the slaves lined 
with captives, and heaped with the spoils of the east 
— the portals of the Ducal palace thronged with am- 
bassadors of emperors and princes — the canals and alleys 
pouring day and night an incessant stream of human 
beings ; for the population was so dense that the nobles 
and the better classes had to cede the day to the poorer, 
and moved forth but at eventide when others retired 
to their repose : — when day and night were alike de- 
voted to business and pleasure without intermission, 
and when casinos on St. Mark's place, could boast that 
they had never closed their doors for a long series of 
revolving years. At that period the many isles that 
throng the Lagunes, now barely inhabited by a few 
needy fishermen or aged monks, held their thousands. 

Now descend to her streets and canals, and enter her 
noble palaces. You tread the costly pavements and 
stucco floors with a wonder which grows in intensity step 
by step. Above, below, and around, you see nothing 
which does not bespeak matchless art, riches, and pros- 
perity. Pictures, statues, relievos, mosaic, bronze, 
marbles and precious stones, beyond all price ; works 
whose conception was the offspring of the highest genius, 
and whose execution demanded consummate skill with 
the expenditure of years of unwearied patience. What 
glorious habitations ! For a while you forget, in your 
admiration, to observe and feel the solitude which lingers 
throughout, in the court below, on the marble steps, in 
the halls and corridors, and in the garnished apartments. 



VENICE. 183 

You then ask : Where are the masters of these Palladian 
dwellings ? How many of the noble names with which 
the history of Venice teems, are still to be heard in the 
palace of the Doges, or on the lips of the passers by on 
the Rialto? The answer is a melancholy one. They 
are gone ! Few, very few are now to be seen in Venice. 
I have watched the sea-crabs crawl backwards and for- 
wards with their sidelong movement from one hole in the 
foundation of the palaces to another, and thought how 
much more fortunate they are in retaining possession 
of their quarters, than the major part of the two thou- 
sand patrician families that once lived above them. 
They are gone, no one knows whither. Some few still 
dwell in their own proud and beautiful city, and hold 
up their heads, — others glide like shadows shunning 
observation, on pavements upon which their forefathers 
trod as princes. Some live on the Brenta, others at 
Padua and Trieste. A number are known to be self- 
exiled to other states of their beautiful Italy, or to 
England, Germany, and France ; but all these are 
comparatively few ; and where the bulk are gone, no 
one can tell. Glory indeed still hovers over this city 
of palaces ; but it is indeed ' faded glory.' 

If the palaces of Venice are so beautiful and costly, 
the numerous churches are not less so. The variety 
of styles from the barbaresque architecture of the 
Church of St. Mark to the noble harmonious edifices 
of Palladio, is not less an subject of wonder and curi- 
osity, than the varied disposition and exquisite decora- 
tions of the interiors. In these cool and silent sanctu- 
aries, resplendent with the noblest works of the pencil 
and chisel of the Venetian schools, you will be tempted 



184 VENICE. 

to pass many of those hours of dazzling sunshine, 
which at this season you must necessarily avoid. And 
to whatever quarter of the city you may direct your 
steps or your gondola, you will not fail to meet with con- 
secrated edifices worthy of examination, from their 
architecture or their contents. I cannot from personal 
experience say that in these vast temples I have felt 
that the spirit of devotion reigned, which, however 
differing in faith from the worshippers, we should wish 
to feel in common with them, during their services. 
If mass be performed, would you not desire to see it 
celebrated by the officiating ministers with decorum, 
and with a demeanour conveying the impression to 
their fellow worshippers, that they felt their office to 
be a sacred one, demanding decency and solemnity in 
tone and manner? 

Yet here I have rarely heard the service chanted 
otherwise, than in a manner disgraceful to the church 
and her government ; proving the truth of the re- 
mark, that he who feels no self-respect, will never 
be respected by others. I have stood divided be- 
tween shame, diversion, and anger at the door of a 
church in which a young ecclesiastic was holding 
forth from a broad pulpit, in which he kept running 
to and fro like a rat in a wooden trap, with a vio- 
lence of gesture and utterance which was perfectly 
indecorous ; while close up to the portal, and within 
hearing by those within the church, stood a huge 
punch-box in full activity, with its usual laughing 
audience. 

And now that this subject has introduced itself, I 
am inclined to add a few more observations. * I have 



VENICE. 185 

been attempting in my own mind during these visits to 
Roman Catholic places of worship, to draw a line of 
distinction between the blind Pagan Roman of old 
times, and the blind Roman Catholic of the present 
day — but I cannot draw it as marked and distinct as 
in charity I would. It cannot signify much, what the 
personages blindly worshipped be called ! — whether 
Apollo or Apollodorus, god Mercury or Saint Mark, 
or how the act of adoration may be paid ; whether by 
invocation, incense, and the sacrifice of a bull-calf, or 
by prayer, vows, and the offering of a big wax candle ! 
it is surely the same act of taking the attribute of glory 
and mercy, and sole power and honour from the only 
true God, and giving it to idols. You say, poor 
ignorant things, they know no better, they are born in 
this faith, and are bred to it ; — true, they are, and I 
must believe that God will judge the poor and ignorant 
yet more mercifully than we with our human feeling 
do judge ; but theirs is the greater sin, who, with en- 
lightened minds in other respects, and the capa- 
bility of reasoning and searching after the truth, — 
wilfully persevere in a corrupt system which the Holy 
Scriptures and common sense alike condemn, both as 
absurd and criminal. Nobody can doubt but there 
are hundreds and thousands among the rulers that 
know and feel this. Has no one then the virtue or 
courage to lead the way 1 — not to separation from the 
Roman Catholic faith and incorporation with the body 
of existing Reformed, which may be well for the in- 
dividual, but leaves the mother church as it was ; — 
but, to reformation in the Romish church itself. That 
is the thing that is wanted. Let the Roman Catholic 



186 VENICE. 

remain such in name, and with ritual distinguishing 
him from all classes of existing Christians, but let his 
church be still a reformed church. Let him keep much 
of outward form if he will ; and if he likes to wear a 
gold-embroidered surplice instead of a plain black or 
white one, there is no paramount reason why he should 
not do so. Let him keep his beautiful temple and much 
of its interior adornment. If, when he enters it, it 
seems right to him to bend the knee in act of adoration 
to that Being to whose sole service that house is con- 
secrated — if he will have the representation of his 
Saviour's suffering on the altar, and not pass it without 
reverence — if he must now and then, of his own free 
will, tell the tale of his inward struggles to his priest, 
demand counsel and receive his blessing at the mo- 
ment of departure from the world; let him do these 
things — but let God's Word and Revelation be the 
sole touch-stone for matters of faith and practice ; 
unmixed with the unholy leaven of fallible popes and 
equally fallible councils, let them have taken place 
when and where they may. Distinct and differing 
forms of worship are surely of but little importance. 
It is not given to every one to feel devotion excited, or 
rather nursed, by sitting in a plain white- washed 
edifice, with a plain coat, a covered head, and the chin 
resting upon a staff, in utter silence for an hour to- 
gether : — yet some find it so. To others a long-winded 
discourse of two or more hours, begun and concluded 
with a sad attempt at melody, would be a grievous 
trial of patience : but look at many of our neighbours, 
who are accustomed to excite spiritual edification by 
such modes. To many, the simplicity with which the 



VENICE. 187 

members of the Moravian church, according to the 
custom of the Apostolic age, assemble frequently to- 
gether to the same repast, in memorial of their common 
bond of brotherhood and unity as a family of Chris- 
tians, appears very singular : but none who know 
them will doubt their sincerity, or the blessing they 
derive from such observances. Therefore let the Ro- 
man Catholics remain a distinct body ; let them keep 
all their real devotion and deeply religious feeling 
concentrated, and consecrated to a higher and undi- 
vided service. Let them retain much of their inspiring 
music ; a proportion of their convents for the retreat 
of the oppressed and broken-hearted, and the enter- 
tainment of the poor and aged ; — but their anti- scrip- 
tural doctrines, and the slavish forms and customs built 
thereon, must assuredly be relinquished. Let them 
cast to the flames their rosaries, and the whole chapter 
of talismans, their relics, flags, and shrines of saints, 
the stocks and stones to which the poor and ignorant 
among them bow down. Let them, above all, read 
diligently, and study the pure word of God. Their 
spurious sacraments will then find their proper place, 
and cease to hold an undue rank in church observances. 
Then also they will find that the Blessed Virgin 
(for such she remains), the apostles, the saints, and 
the martyrs — have all their seat, as human beings, 
at the foot of the Throne, — once fallen, but saved 
and glorified — ready to welcome them to heaven, 
but unable to aid their ascent, if they miss the 
only way through the mediation of our Lord Jesus 
Christ. Man is truly unable to effect this — but all is 
in the power of God. 



188 VENICE. 

But it is time that our imaginary ramble be brought 
to a conclusion, and that I proceed with my relation ; 
for all that is the subject of my admiration in this 
beautiful city, has been the same to thousands ; and I 
am conscious that there is no novelty in the past 
remarks. How soon that gradual decay, which all 
must observe in every part of its extent, shall end in 
complete and irretrievable ruin, no one can predict ; — 
that the day will come, and that perhaps shortly, is not 
the less true. 

On the evening of the ISth, I quitted Venice for 
Trieste. It grieves me, that in sketching my night 
trip across the Adriatic, I cannot indulge, with strict 
adherence to prosaic truth, in that strain of sweet and 
soothing sentiment which perhaps, after all, may be 
my peculiar forte. I can neither speak of the silver 
moon shining clear upon the glassy surface of the 
sea, nor of the light airs which fanned the surface 
without breaking it, coming (in the long run) from 
' Araby the Blest,' and so forth ; but must, truth con- 
straining, give a picture which might in the greater 
part of its detail, suit the rude surface of the north 
sea as well as that upon which we paddled. It is 
very true, that though no longer a stripling, I still 
have many thoughts that are not prose, and see many 
things through a medium, that if not strictly poetic, 
is somewhat akin to it : yet I find year by year that I 
have more prose and less poetry measured out to me. 
Perhaps ten years ago many of the things now described 
in common-place language, and without a spark of 
enthusiasm, might have been dizened out with far 
other colours. 



VENICE. 189 

If I am asked how I saw Venice for the last time, 
I must answer, that starting exactly at nine o'clock 
when the bell from St. Marks, the evening gun from 
the frigate, and the drum of the land and marine 
guard gave the signal, we rapidly paddled round the 
end of the Island of Lido, and there was an end of the 
matter, as night had already set in, and neither 
moon nor stars appeared; — but a sky which was not 
ordinary — a sky of such threatening aspect as I have 
rarely seen. While we yet lay in the Lagune I 
could not but avow, that our position was romantic. 
A fierce thunder-storm, driving from the main to sea- 
ward, kept sending its hollow peals from the west, 
while the noble island-church of St. Georgio Maggiore, 
and a tall two-masted vessel lying between us and that 
quarter, were continually brought into distinctness by 
the stream of lightning playing behind them. From 
the northward, another ragged and threatening mass of 
vapour seemed momentarily to approach the city, and 
the shade of the clouds upon the surface of the Lagune, 
spotted with the numerous gondolas, with the occa- 
sional reflection of streaks of faint light, which often 
peep out from the westward after sunset amidst the 
layers of a thunder-storm, gave still greater effect to 
the picture from the contrast they afforded. 

However the storm was in motion, and, as I have said, 
in a short time we were so likewise ; and by the time 
night had quite set in, and we had cleared the eastern- 
most point of Lido, we had reciprocally taken another 
position with regard to each other. Instead of the storm 
moving, as it had done, while we were getting out of the 
channel between the islands, nearly parallel with us, it 



190 THE GULP OF VENICE. 

had now a position directly in the line of our course, and 
our white bowsprit seemed to point directly into the black 
curtain before us. Of its distance or real direction, there 
was no judging, even when the whole was brilliantly 
illuminated by the blue lightning, by which every two or 
three minutes it was animated. This state of things lasted 
at least two hours, and then we experienced some portion 
of its fury : subsequently the whole night through, thun- 
der-storms were traversing the sea in all directions, 
sometimes on our right, then on our left ; sometimes 
enveloping us in heavy rain, and at others, leaving us a 
pathway, lighted by stars, between their different layers. 
There was throughout but little wind, and upon this 
confined sea where the tides are so inconsiderable, no 
perceptible motion. 

The small steam boat contained four distinct classes 
of passengers, and as I had no desire to condemn 
myself to the heat of the cabins, I had the privilege of 
herding with a motley group, composed of men of 
various nations on deck. Here, in common with the 
bearded Jew and showy Greek, I found means to 
while away the night : now in a doze upon one of 
the small swivel-guns screwed so aptly upon the bul- 
warks as to serve for a pillow, and then in obser- 
vation of what was passing around me. The night stole 
onward, and upon opening one of my eyes after one 
of these slumbers, I found the sun just throwing his 
beams athwart the heavy thunder-clouds which were 
still hovering to the right and left, and saw that we had 
neared the opposite shore, and were standing off the 
long promontory of St. Salvore. 

The port of Trieste presented a very lively spectacle 



TRIESTE. 191 

upon our approach from sea-ward ; and the bustle on 
the piers and quays of the city, assorted well with the 
idea of extended commerce, conveyed by the numer- 
ous vessels of all nations in the roads. The time 
occupied in landing, depositing passports, and other 
duties consequent upon arrival, took up no great por- 
tion of the morning, so that sufficient time remained 
for a general survey of the city. 

The weather cleared up as the morning advanced, 
and turned out as hot as even the cicalas could desire. 
What a chattering they keep up in the trees when the 
sun shines hot ! I consider myself fortunate, that I 
landed in Trieste, at all times a busy bustling city, on a 
market-day, when it presented itself in its most 
lively state. The first thing that struck me, was the 
great variety of nations and costumes that filled the 
market-place and port, comprising Greeks, Turks, 
Armenians, Sclavonians, and others of their class ; and 
groups of peasantry from the neighbouring mountains 
of Dalmatia, Carinthia and Illyria, each in a dress 
more or less peculiar. Then the contents of the 
market appeared but half European. There were 
parrots and parroquets to be sold, chattering among 
the canaries, and other foreign-looking birds, that did 
not seem intended for the table. Above all, I was startled 
by a row of baskets, full of yellow-legged tortoises, 
struggling in durance vile, and selling for wholesome 
food like the rest. They come from the woods of Turkey, 
and are eaten for good and pleasant food on fast days. 
Then, as is my custom, I took a turn in the fish-market, 
for I love to see the odd things that men fish out of the 
great waters : those with prickles and those with scales, 



192 TRIESTE. 

with heads and without them, with ten eyes, and only one 
great human-looking- eye in the middle of the stomach ; 
with shape and form, but without any definite one — all 
have a charm for me, and incite me to muse upon the 
infinite strength of that wisdom that has prescribed a 
sphere of action and of duty for each, far beyond 
our comprehension. Next came the town itself, with its 
fine wide paved streets, large buildings, spacious quays, 
and the whole paraphernalia of a flourishing and fre- 
quented sea-port. Nothing could be a greater contrast 
to the city I had left, than the new creation now before 
me. Trieste must, however, be divided into the old and 
new town : the former, situated at the foot of the hill 
on which the castle is built, is an old irregularly built 
place, containing nothing of any kind of note but the 
cathedral, the church of the ex- Jesuits, a fragment of a 
Roman archway, half buried in a narrow street. The 
Dohm is situated close by the castle, and has an air of 
considerable antiquity. Several interesting Roman 
antiquities are embedded in the walls. Its architectu- 
ral character is Byzantine, having five aisles, and in 
the three circular apsides at the east end there is some 
good mosaic. A very beautiful Catherine-wheel win- 
dow in the principal facade is its greatest ornament. 
Winnkelmann lies buried here. The new and regular 
addition to the city occupies twice as much ground 
as the old town, and extends along the shore towards 
the north. The style of architecture is noble, though 
not strictly Italian, and many public buildings, with 
some palaceous structures built by private merchants, 
deserve notice ; amongst the former are the Exchange, 
the Palace, the Greek Church, and several Casinos; and 



TRIESTE. 193 

the principal among the latter a noble pile of building 
erected some years ago by Demetrius Carciotti, a Greek 
merchant. The quays are fine and the paving through- 
out the new city the most perfect possible, consisting 
of a close pavement of large solid blocks of sandstone, 
three or four feet long by two broad, and as many thick. 
This stone and the limestone formation of which the 
surrounding hills consist, afford the finest materials for 
building, close at hand and easy to work. Trieste has 
tripled its population within the last fifteen years, and 
has risen, in a measure, in proportion as Venice has 
fallen. From the battery in front of the castle, there is 
a noble sea view, and a very considerable one upon the 
land side, towards Capo d' Istria and Fiume. 

That which strikes a stranger instantly upon landing, 
is the barren appearance of the higher part of the moun- 
tain-chain, running along these coasts of the Adriatic ; 
a few trees and vines clothe the lower grounds and 
hollows, and scanty verdure may be traced to some 
inconsiderable height ; it then becomes blended with the 
grey of the limestone rock, and towards the head disap- 
pears entirely. This is to be ascribed to the action 
of the N. E. wind or Bora, a wind of such violence, that 
it may be termed the scourge of this coast, as all soil is 
soon stripped from the portion of the country exposed 
to it. The rocks themselves have the appearance of 
being ground smooth by its power. This wind and the 
sirocco are always dreaded in these parts. The latter 
is the desert wind of Syria, as well as the Fbn of the 
Swiss lakes. 

The castle of Trieste is now merely a sort of guard or 
signal house, but it was probably more extensive in its 

o 



194 TRIESTE. 

ancient state. The large garrison reside in barracks 
situated nearer to the shore. About a mile to the north 
is the Lazaretto where the ships passing from the Levant 
perform quarantine. The mountains of Friuli are dis- 
tinguishable, but not to any great extent. The sun set 
gloriously over the sea and crowded port. 

The earlier portion of the following day was agree- 
ably occupied in a visit to some interesting caverns, situ- 
ated near the village of Cornial, at the distance of about 
ten miles to the east of the city. Now I own that I did 
not expect much, for there are but few things of which 
people may speak more vaguely with certain effect, 
than subterraneous wonders. I have been more than 
once led out of my way to see a ' great cavern,' 
which turned out to be hardly longer than a great lime- 
kiln ; and once or twice have missed what was really 
curious, because the adjective employed in describing 
it, degraded it below its real rank among this class of 
natural phenomena. I returned, however, in humble 
repentance for my mistrust, and avowed that I had 
seen in the great grottos of Cornial, a noble and most 
singular range of caverns, compared to which those that 
I had visited elsewhere sunk into insignificance. A 
climb of nearly an hour and a half surmounted the 
ridge of hills to the east of Trieste, and half an hour's 
further progress over the stony bye-road, led to the scat- 
tered village near which the said grottos are situated. 
The mountains seem to be composed of an infinity of 
very thin disruptured strata, lying at an angle of perhaps 
70° with the horizon, and in parts at least strongly tinc- 
tured with iron. They exhibit their broken section upon 
the surface ; and the immense quantity of half-decom- 



THE GROTTOS OF CORNIAL. 195 

posed fragments that cover them, added to the violence 
of the Bora, which prevents any earth or light particles 
from remaining stationary, produces that sterility of 
which I have before spoken. This stony district is, 
however, celebrated for the great variety and beauty 
of the snake tribe existing upon it; and its sunny 
slopes and levels produce a fine crop of thyme and 
grasshoppers. It appeared that the snakes would 
not have to glide far for a breakfast, if as easily con- 
tented as the hermits of the East. The grasshopper is 
a stupid insect, always in a hurry to jump, and seldom 
jumping out of the line of peril. In such sheltered 
hollows and dells of these hills as are fortuitously 
protected from 'the Bora, trees may be said to flourish, 
and the country has a very pleasant and woodland 
appearance. Such is the neighbourhood of Lipizza, 
an imperial nursery for a fine breed of horses, which 
you pass between the summit of the ridge and Cornial ; 
but the moment the mountain-side becomes exposed to 
the eastern blast, the forest and pasturage seem pared 
and cut from it, by as even a line, as though the hand 
of man had effected it ; and the bare rock is imme- 
diately exposed. 

From the village, a walk of about a mile over a 
very rugged level, conducted me and the gentleman 
to whose politeness I was indebted for guidance, 
to a sudden break in the surface of the ground, very 
much resembling some of the fissures in the Jura, 
and descending twenty or thirty steps, through a 
stone door-way, the main entrance of the cavern, a 
wide but compressed arch yawned below us. Three 
men with various apparatus for giving the necessary light 

O 2 



196 THE GROTTOS OF CORNIAL. 

accompanied us. We now descended, chiefly by rude 
steps in a devious line of about 1800 feet, (I attempted 
to make a rude calculation upon our return,) to a depth 
of probably 400 feet below the surface, till we were in- 
deed buried in regions of ' thick ribbed ice.' One spa- 
cious cavern, of which the floor as well as the roof and 
sides were formed of stalactites, opened above and be- 
neath, after another. The communication between these 
was more or less easy, through natural caves or artificial 
passages, where the axe and the hammer had been 
employed to burst through the wall of closely descend- 
ing columns. Of these the caverns furnished a great 
and beautiful variety, of many forms, more or less 
regular or grotesque — drapery, candelebra, statues, 
gothic pinnacles and fret-work ; all moulded, chiselled, 
and created by the skilful hand of nature, in silence and 
darkness. As usual, the peasantry had distinguished 
the more peculiar figures by various names, and the 
Madonna and many saints have here their subterranean 
representatives. The colour of the stalactite is either 
white or reddish brown ; it is sufficiently hard to admit 
of a good polish. 

Several of the caverns are of very great height and 
width, but in general all very rugged, with no level 
pavement. New discoveries are continually made ; 
and there is but little doubt that the greater part of the 
mountain is but a crust, overhanging abysses of this 
nature. A yearly festival is held here, during which 
the inhabitants of the commune expend a considerable 
sum to light up the caverns and passages, and numbers 
flock from Trieste to be present. There is no water, 
but that which distils from the roofs and gradually forms 



TRIESTE. 197 

the pillars. Many of the latter may be forty or fifty 
feet high. About ten leagues to the north is another 
cavern, that of Adelsberg, more spacious than that just 
described, but, I am told, not so deep. A great festival 
is held in its dazzling halls on Whit-monday. After 
an examination of about an hour, we made our exit, 
and returned to the city. The people of this district 
speak a Slavonic dialect, Cornial being situated in 
the province of Carniola. 

The male costume is chiefly striking for the enor- 
mous broad-brimmed dark hat and open-knee'd breeches, 
and the women's, for the white linen shawl, which serves 
at once for head-dress, veil, and stomacher. A tri- 
angular slip of their face is alone visible, the forehead 
being covered, and the chin left bare. Hundreds of 
these white-headed people are seen entering the city 
early in the morning, with bread for city consump- 
tion, that being chiefly made in the farms. They have 
a singularly shaped head, and a very peculiar cast of 
countenance, and are evidently a distinct race from 
the inhabitants of the opposite shores. The population 
of the inland parts of Carniola, Istria, and Dalmatia, is 
still in a half-savage state ; and the roads in the interior 
of the country are reputed unsafe for a solitary wanderer. 

There is, moreover, a most singular race inhabiting 
the mountainous district between Trieste and Fiume, 
that supplies the city with charcoal. Their appearance 
is more like that of the Bedouin of the desert, than the 
civilized European. They wear rude shaggy clothing, 
and sandals of wood attached to the feet by thongs ; and 
their demeanour comports well with the ideas conveyed 
by their outward guise. 



198 



TRIESTE, 



Trieste is seen to advantage from the ridge of these 
hills, with its castle and busy road- stead. A little 
beyond, to the south, appears, the long shallow estuary 
or bay, called the Valle di Muja, with one headland 
shooting forward into the sea after another, as the coast 
bends southward. The intermediate country is varied, 
and sprinkled with trees and villages. To the south-east 
and east, the view is bounded by hills of the same 
character as those already described. 

On the Corso and the public walk, I was much 
amused by the mingling costumes of the various nations 
inhabiting this sea-port. The Greek and Albanese are 
the most graceful, though some, from the south of 
Dalmatia are also very tasteful and elegant. Many 
of the Greeks resident here, have adopted the European 
costume, which is to be regretted. The Istrian and 
Illyrian women are fairer than their Italian neighbours, 
and have otherwise considerable claims to beauty. 

My stay in Trieste was prolonged to the evening of 
the 25th, and was rendered truly agreeable by the 
hospitable attention by which I was honoured by several 
families, to whom I had been furnished with intro- 
ductory letters. It may be believed that social converse 
was not the less delightful in consequence of my long 
estrangement from it. At the same time a further 
change was gradually operated in my plans. I had 
intended, after various excursions in this vicinity, to re- 
turn northward from Trieste, crossing the plains and 
mountains of Friuli ; and, re-entering the eastern quarter 
of the Tyrol, to make a second attempt to visit the Great 
Glockner. For the first few days of my stay in this 
city, however, the prevalence of the sirocco prevented 



TJRIESTE. 199 

the departure of the little trading bark upon which I 
had secured a passage to Rovigno ; in the prosecution 
of a wish to visit Roman antiquities in the remark- 
able town of Pola, situated near the southern extremity 
of the Istrian peninsula. The attempt to reach this 
point by a land journey, was strongly deprecated as 
dangerous and unadvisable, from the unsafe state of 
the bye-roads along the mountains, and the great heats 
prevalent in these barren regions. Though sufficiently 
bent on putting my project into execution, I had no 
power to produce a shift of wind, and various circum- 
stances conspired towards my embracing a totally 
new project. This was to let the offset to my ex- 
cursion consist of a visit to Rome, instead of one to 
Pola, and an examination of the Coliseum, instead 
of the Amphitheatre of the latter place. 

A vessel was on the point of sailing for the port of 
Ancona, to which the sirroco would serve as a side 
wind ; and, moreover, a gentleman returning from 
Egypt, to his residence in the south of Italy, proposed 
to bear me company, and be my adviser, if not my 
cicerone, in disposing of my time and attention to the 
best advantage. This project, however, I determined 
nevertheless to consider as a mere digression from the 
line of my original ramble, and from which I might 
hope to return in the course of a month to Trieste. 
I shall not easily forget the splendour of the morning 
preceding our departure. I stood on the pier, with 
the busy sounds and scenes of the port around. Such 
transparency and brilliancy in the atmosphere, such 
colouring and distinctness in all objects, can never 
be seen in our northern climates. The city, the ship- 



200 TRIESTE. 

ping, and the surrounding hills, formed at that hour a 
picture of extraordinary beauty . 

I then saw, for the first time, that wonderful in- 
habitant of these seas, vulgarly called the Boccia marina, 
or marine pot. I had heard much concerning it, for it 
happened that a few weeks previous to my visit, to the 
amazement of the whole city, the entire sea appeared 
one morning covered with them, thousands upon thou- 
sands crowding in towards the coast ; whence coming 
and whither going, no one knows but that God who 
created and preserves them. I had, however, but 
little idea of their form and appearance, for though 
I had seen the remains of hundreds upon the beach 
where they had been thrown by the surge, the 
colourless, shapeless mass of jelly, conveyed no idea 
of beauty to the mind; and when I saw something 
moving in towards the shore with the gentle tide, with 
every appearance of being a most beautiful mushroom 
about fifteen inches in diameter, and a stalk of perhaps 
two feet long, apparently torn up by the roots, 
I was tempted to descend and await, its arrival. But 
when on a nearer approach, I discovered a movement 
which could not be otherwise than spontaneous, I 
could not help laughing' at my own astonishment. 
In describing it, I can do no better than maintain 
the similitude that I have already used, of a gigantic 
mushroom torn up by the roots. But what a beautiful 
mushroom ! The general colour of the substance com- 
posing it, is a delicate transparent white, through which 
a star composed of four rays may be seen in the head. 
The gills of the same, which form a fine film, appeared 
crimped in the most exquisite manner, and tinged with 



TRIESTE. 201 

purple. The stalk is white ; and the seeming roots 
forming a bunch of eight lobes, are mostly purple also. 
The motion by which it travels is to be perceived in the 
edge of the film surrounding the head, and it seems to 
have perfect command of its movements. When it is 
turned from you so as to allow you to peep under the 
film, you see a beautiful, flower-looking substance form- 
ing the body. As soon as my wonder and admiration 
would allow me to turn my eyes aside, and look around, 
I found that there were many within sight, moving 
about among the shipping. 

The evening was equally fine with the morning, and 
I went with my companion on board the little Italian 
trabaccolo in which we had taken our passage to Ancona 
under very different auspices from those which had 
attended my departure from Venice scarcely a week 
before. The wind was but faint, and the sea as calm as 
a mirror ; yet the sails of our bark were immediately 
spread, and she stood gently out. The lights of the 
town gradually disappeared, and we directed our course 
southward along the coast. An Italian night tempted 
me to stay long on deck, and it was not till after the 
new moon had gone down beneath the water, that I 
slunk into our little cabin. 

On the morning of the third day, having been fre- 
quently becalmed on the passage, we entered the 
picturesque port of Ancona, sheltered to the southward 
by the fine swelling promontory which is the great 
landmark of the eastern coast of Italy. No one can 
avoid being struck by the picturesque position and 
details of this truly Italian town, and the felicitous 
situation of its venerable Byzantine cathedral, standing 



202 ROME. 

apart, upon the extremity of the rocky headland, and 
overlooking the blue sea : or do otherwise than snatch 
a glance, in passing, at the graceful arch in white 
marble erected in honour of the Emperor Adrian. It 
is small, but in excellent preservation. A month hence, 
we shall again find ourselves riding upon the short 
uneasy swell of the Adriatic, and till then I defer any 
picture I may feel tempted to give of these shores, 
and the gulf which separates them. Besides, gentle 
reader, I am no longer the Pedestrian, my com- 
panion and myself having found it advisable, in order 
to gain time and avoid the heats, to hire a vetturino 
for our conveyance to the city of Rome. 

I cannot but add, that barring the honour and the 
heat, we should eventually, both have preferred making 
use of our feet, as the slowness with which we moved 
was insupportable. Moreover we were condemned to the 
society of a young priest, a member of the Propaganda, 
whose conduct was so outrageously offensive and imper- 
tinent, that I had much difficulty, (though I did not un- 
derstand half he said,) to avoid using such means of 
retaliation as might give him full title, upon his entrance 
at Rome, to hang up a flaming ex voto to his patron 
saint. Our route led us across the country to the far- 
famed Loretto, and then by the towns of Macerata 
and Tolentino to the foot of the Appenines, which we 
crossed, to the glorious vale of Foligno and Spoleto. 
The passage of another ridge of the same chain of 
mountains brought us to the olive-forest of Terni. 
Then came the imposing Cascata del Marmore, and the 
old walled town of Narni, four and twenty hours after 
quitting which, we entered Rome. 



CHAPTER VI. 



— ' Rome ! the City where the Gauls 
Entering at sunrise through her open gates 
And, thro' her streets silent and desolate 
Marching to slay, thought they saw Gods, not men . 
The City, that by temperance, fortitude, 
And love of Glory, towered above the clouds, 
Then fell — but falling, kept the highest seat, 
And in her loneliness, her pomp of woe, 
Where now she dwells, withdrawn into the wild, 
Still o'er the mind maintains, from age to age, 
Her empire undiminished.' 



* You must take great care to avoid over exertion at 
this season of the year,' said my companion to me, as 
we entered the Piazza del Populo together. ' The 
Malaria is now rife, and you may chance to run into 
the way of it. Expose yourself to the sun's power as 
little as possible ; avoid fruits, however tempting ; 
shun the cool interior of churches when overheated, 
in short, recollect that if you do not wish to rest 
from your rambles under the shadow of the pyramid 
of Caius Cestius, you must act with care and fore- 
thought.' 

This was certainly excellent advice, and I had suffi- 
cient awe of the malaria fever, to resolve to follow it 
to the letter. Consequently for the first days, I 
attempted to walk, and see, and live by rule : but long 



204 ROME. 

ere the short period I could allot to the examination 
of Rome was terminated, I had forgotten all. I saw 
that every moment was precious, and that I must make 
up by activity for the want of time. 

The reason which induced me to avoid detaining my 
reader at Venice, with remarks upon scenes which must 
now be familiar to all, will also prevent my occupying 
many pages with this august and celebrated city, or its 
neighbourhood. To tread upon the dust of the Roman 
Forum, to traverse the narrow streets of Rome in all 
directions in search of the vestiges of its ancient and the 
monuments of its modern grandeur, and to wander at 
even- tide through the matted brushwood and arches of 
the Palatine, or in the Coliseum, was a source of proud 
delight to me, as it has been to tens of thousands of 
pilgrims, of all countries and times. But my daily pro- 
ceedings were those of every tourist. I felt what all 
must feel, that feverish curiosity and excitement which 
would not let me rest ; and before a week had elapsed, 
there were few parts of the city to which I had not paid 
repeated visits. The circuit of the walls of Rome, and 
the churches and relics of old days in the adjacent 
country, then claimed attention. Perhaps the reader 
will accompany me in a ramble without the walls. 

It was towards the close of a very busy day, that 
oppressed by the heat of the city, I made my exit from 
its enclosure by the gate of St. Sebastian, and directed 
my steps towards the hills of Albano. A very rough 
walk, partly over the ancient Appian way, and partly 
over the uninclosed and barren surface of the Cam- 
pagna, brought me, after some miles, near the 
base of the eminences in question ; and gaining the 



THE MONTE CAVO. 205 

line of the main road to Albano, I proceeded in my 
ascent, glancing frequently back upon the Campagna, 
glowing under the horizontal beams of the setting sun, 
and the huge dome of St. Peter's, rearing itself from the 
cloud of dim vapour of the lower grounds. An acci- 
dent however led me out of the direct line of road, and 
detained me yet a considerable time, before I reached 
my proposed night-quarters ; and it was not till after 
an hour or two spent in some provoking wanderings in 
the neighbourhood of Gandolpho, and the passage in 
utter darkness of the celebrated forest alleys of Albano, 
that I gained the latter town, about ten o'clock at 
night. 

The following morning after an early examination of 
that little town and its neighbourhood, I made my way 
through the deep and picturesque woods which clothe 
the hills round the lake of Albano, just above the 
beautiful Aricia, to the easternmost edge of the hollow 
in which it lies, and then to the village of Rocca di 
Papa, situated high up in the country, and at the foot 
of the last gradation of the Monte Cavo, the highest 
point in this isolated group of hills. The situation of 
Rocca di Papa is singularly picturesque. Immediately 
behind a rocky mass which backs it, I skirted the hollow 
of the Campo di Annibale, whence the Carthagenians 
had cast desiring eyes towards Rome, and ascended to 
the convent on the summit. The sun had now begun 
to gain that height at which his beams at this season 
begin to be difficult to be borne in this climate ; yet up 
to this point I had no reason to complain, as my walk 
had been almost entirely in the forests. The little 
monastery erected on the site of the Temple of Jupiter 



206 THE MONTE CAVO. 

Latialis is not a remarkable object, but its situation is 
one of unrivalled beauty and interest. To the S.E. and 
N. E. the eye commands a wide extended view of the 
inferior ranges of the Appenines, formerly inhabited by 
the Volsci and Sabines, and portions of the higher 
chains breaking gradually down towards the northward. 
Soracte's isolated cone and some lower ranges near 
Viterbo appearing in that point of the compass. The 
Mediterranean occupies all the rest of the horizon, 
displaying its blue line over that wonderfully coloured 
tract of country, known by the general names of the 
Campagna di Roma and the Pontine marshes, which 
fill up the whole of the wide interval between the dis- 
tant hills, the sea, and the entire cluster upon whose 
highest point you have your stand. Almost due south 
the headland of Circeji rises boldly on the margin of the 
sea, the seat of old Circe and her enchantments ; with 
the mountains overhanging Terracina to the left, and 
the promontory of Antium to the right. Immediately at 
your feet, lie the inferior portions of the little isolated 
group of Alban hills, clothed by forests and diversified 
by many white villages ; moreover you see the two blue 
and tranquil lakes of Albano and Nemi, deeply sunk 
in their wooded cradles. There still remains to be 
mentioned a most interesting feature of the landscape, 
Rome itself, far removed, it is true, but well distin- 
guishable among the yellow, purple and blue tints 
which streak its surrounding Campagna by the innu- 
merable white specks which denote its churches and 
villas, and the tint of fresher vegetation that surrounds 
it. Its seven hills and their neighbours are all blended 
with the great seeming level. If one could enter into 



MONTE PORZIE. 207 

the minor objects of interest, the sites of villas or 
scenes of remarkable events which are thus presented 
at a coup d'ceil, many pages would not contain the 
detail. 

At my return to the village of Rocca di Papa, I 
found it crowded with the peasantry convened for some 
religious ceremony : and, obtaining from one of their 
number a handful of figs and a piece of bread for my 
morning's repast, I addressed myself seriously to find 
my way across the country to Frascati. I descended 
through a forest of noble chesnuts, many of them thirty- 
feet in girth, into a cultivated valley of no great breadth, 
and after many wanderings to and fro, came out upon 
the opposite hill, near the supposed site of Cicero's 
villa at Tusculum. Hence descending through the 
grounds of the handsome villa commanding it to the town 
of Frascati, I turned more to the eastward, and climbed 
the hill upon which the village of Porzie lies. The 
heat had now begun to be nearly insupportable. The 
sirocco was blowing, and brought no freshness in its 
blast. From the walls of Porzie I looked down with 
many an anxious glance, at the wide Campagna upon 
which I was upon the point of descending, and which 
I should have to traverse at hap-hazard without track 
of any kind, if I wished to gain Tivoli before nightfall. 

It was now nearly high noon, and though I. had but 
little idea of the real distance from the foot of the 
Alban hills to those of Tivoli opposite, and could not 
think of leaving the prosecution of my walk till an hour 
that might expose me to be eventually surprised by the 
darkness, and to have to pass the night without shelter 
in that pestiferous region, yet against the heat there 



208 THE CAMPAGNA. 

was no struggling ; therefore, after studying the general 
bearings of my route from the top of the hill, and fixing 
upon certain landmarks which might, enable me to 
keep it, when entangled among the inequalities of the 
low grounds, I descended into a clump of chesnut- 
trees, and there sought some shelter and repose for the 
following two hours. But the heat, the heat ! if I turned 
my face to the sirocco, the wind was like the breath 
of a furnace ; and if in a contrary direction, there was 
that smothering stillness in the atmosphere, which 
rendered it difficult to say, which was the more dis- 
tressing situation. I kept quiet, however, till I could 
keep quiet no longer, and then slowly wound my way 
downward through the olive grounds and vineyards, 
seeking and taking advantage of every square yard 
of shade ; and, in about an hour's time, found myself 
standing under the last tree on this side the Campagna. 
I lingered under it like a fool, goaded to move forward 
by the knowledge that many miles of difficult road 
were before me, but unwilling to quit the last spot where 
any solace was to be expected. When at length I 
summoned resolution to quit it, I entered upon a tract, 
the traversing of which occupied me full three hours. 
If it be a comfort to tread upon many different soils, 
instead of one quite uniform — and I own I have often 
thought it to be such — I had surely no cause to com- 
plain, for I found variety enough. Near the foot of 
the hills, the ground is sterile, hard, stony, and ir- 
regularly grooved with dry and profound furrows, in 
genera] producing nothing but brambles, a few bushes 
of wild figs, and such fruitless shrubs. Then you get 
upon a tract covered with loose volcanic sand, or 



THE CAMPAGNA. 209 

crumbling- stone; to this succeeds a wide garden of 
towering and tearing- plants, of the centaurea and thistle 
species : — ploughed or furrowed stubble lands, stretching 
for furlong after furlong, form the next stage ; then deep, 
heated ravines, of which no trace is seen at a distance, 
or tracts covered with the crumbled ruins of some vast 
but forgotten edifices of old days. Here I traversed 
the modern road to Palestrina — there an old Roman 
road, with its huge square flag-stones — then crept 
through the choked and broken arches of one or other 
of those enormous aqueducts, the monuments of Roman 
might and genius, upon whose remains, stretching in 
fragments of ten, forty, or one hundred arches toge- 
ther, in the Campagna on every side of Rome, the 
stranger gazes with so much astonishment. Twice I 
passed through great herds of the noble long-horned 
cattle of this region ; and twice — that was luxury ! 
found plentiful and fresh-flowing wells of sweet 
running- water. 

Such is the Campagna of Rome — once a garden, 
now a desert — a land accursed with barrenness ; upon 
whose surface the dews are deadly. No sound but 
the trample of my own hurried footsteps met my ear, 
and hardly a human figure could be descried during 
the passage. Once I saw a shepherd-boy stand- 
ing upon a heap of rubbish at a distance : he was 
silent and motionless, leaning upon his crook : — and 
once two of the mounted prickers of the herd ap- 
peared for a moment on a low ridge which bounded 
the horizon towards the distant sea, but were instantly 
lost again in the hollows. The herds, widely dispersed 
over the surface, were the only animals I met with ; 

p 



210 THE CAMPAGNA. 

there was no cheerful song of birds ; and for miles to- 
gether the lizard and the snake were the only living 
things on my path. Even the cicala found no branch 
to sit and chirp upon. And yet this was the land 
that fed with its profusion the swarming population 
of Rome ! I cannot say that Rome itself moved me 
more than the sight of the desert around it. 

By degrees the heat decreased, the hills of Albano 
became of a darker purple, and those of Tivoli with 
their white villas more distinct ; and just as the sinking 
sun began to cast his beams over the vast level to the 
westward, I found myself upon a beaten road, though 
still five miles from Tivoli. The country became bet- 
ter cultivated as I reached the foot of the hills, and in 
some measure inhabited. I listened with delight to 
that melancholy chaunt, the short and reiterated 
cadence of which is so often heard in the evening on 
the skirts of the Campagna : the long drawn note with 
which it terminates sounds inexpressibly melancholy 
in its simplicity. As I began the last steep ascent from 
the tomb of Plautus to the town, I looked back again 
upon the peculiar and magnificent spectacle of the 
sun-set over Rome, whose huge cupola now again 
rose in the level beneath me. The vicinity of Tivoli 
is eminently picturesque, 1 have the sorrow of think- 
ing that I am little capable of doing justice to it, or 
of adding my meed of praise to that of the many — for, 
when I arose on the morning of the following day, I 
felt as though the fierce sun of the preceding had dried 
up my blood, so little was I able to cope with a second 
day's exertion in the rays of that same sun, and 
breathe the breath of that sirocco. This was soon 



T1V0LI. 211 

made evident to me by an attempt which I made 
early to get round to the nearer objects of interest, 
which but partially succeeded. To keep myself quiet 
and let nature have her time to recover, I felt was now 
my duty, if I would avoid that fever at which I had 
hitherto laughed, but which I know is at this season 
the general consequence of far less imprudence than I 
had been guilty of: — therefore, though it galled me, 
when I was within reach of so much, I did keep quiet. 
I sat long in a dark corner of my inn ; and when in the 
afterpart of the day, my curiosity conquered my pru- 
dence, and I stirred out to see the many objects of 
interest, I moved as though I was made of glass. 

My return to Rome was imperative, and I therefore 
took advantage of a carriage late in the evening, to 
regain my temporary quarters. Such is the summary 
of my longest excursion without the walls. The heat 
of the weather was considered extraordinary, even by 
the Romans : Fahrenheit's thermometer, had registered 
during these days from 100° to 120° in the shade, and 
the sirocco blew day and night for a whole week. 
Though I moved about as usual, the effects of my 
imprudence hung about me for the brief remainder of 
my stay in the city, and made my departure a measure 
of necessity, often urged both by those around me, and 
what was infinitely more potent, by my own conviction. 
To gain the foot of the Appenines, and thence resume 
my proper mode of travelling, was my object in deciding 
to quit Rome on the evening of the 16th, with a 
vetturino, who pledged his word, and what was more, 
his buono memo to bring me to Foligno in a certain 
number of hours. 

p 2 



212 ROME. 

There is a cloister upon the Mount Janiculum, 
standing" in a commanding situation above the Tiber, 
and surrounded by gardens. It is that of St. Onofrio. 
The pavement of its chapel covers the bones of Tor- 
quato Tasso. You wish to see the place of his de- 
parture from the world ; but must not seek it within 
the dusky and narrow limits of these ancient walls. 
You descend to the northern angle of the cloister, and 
enter into the garden by a rustic gate, thread the little 
wilderness of vines and the porno d'oro — and finally, 
ascend close by a decayed fount, matted with creepers, 
to the grassy edge of a small terrace, overshadowed by 
the rich foliage of an oak. You are then told: 
' Where you now sit, Tasso has often been seated before 
you : and stretched upon this sod, overshadowed by 
these branches, in the face of this glorious scene — 
unattended and unheard — he died.' This remarkable 
spot presents perhaps the most beautiful view of the city 
to be found in the neighbourhood. It was here that 
I gazed upon it on the morning after my arrival ; and 
after many intermediate visits, I returned on the eve 
of my departure, to take my parting glance. As my 
first had been a long and admiring, so it may be be- 
lieved my last was a lingering one : I watched the huge 
shadows of St. Peter's, the Vatican, and the Castle of 
St. Angelo, stretch across the Tiber and the city to 
the eastward, and those of the Capitoline and Aventine 
Mounts, cast their sombre mantle over the maze of ruins 
and garden behind them ; and it was not till the last 
purple tinge had faded from the distant Appenines, and 
the innumerable bells of the city tolled the hour of 
vespers, that I could persuade myself to descend. 



NARNI. 213 

My Roman vetturino kept bis pledge, and after 
almost incessant driving for forty-eight hours, contrived 
to bring his fare to the gate of Foligno. Here I took the 
necessary measures to disengage myself from further 
connexion with the rumbling vehicle and its contents, 
consisting of a number of male and female merchants, 
who intended to proceed in it by Loretto and Ancona 
to the great annual fair at Sinigaglia. 

We had made but one stage on the night of our 
departure from the gates of Rome, to those of Civita 
Castellana, a distance of thirty- seven miles. Italy is the 
purgatory of poor dumb animals. Thence we proceeded 
to Narni, where arriving late, I was witness to such a 
scene of Italian confusion and uproar, as amused me 
exceedingly. Only fourteen days before, I had found 
the inn of this town excellent ; but, now nothing could 
be more miserable. To batter the great folding doors 
was our first duty, and long after I had made up my 
mind that the edifice must be deserted — lo ! they were 
suddenly opened, and a glimmering lamp placed on the 
floor revealed to our view Luigi the ostler, Joachim the 
fag, and Giuseppe the chamber-man, just as they had 
tumbled out of bed. However that was no impediment 
to the entry of the whole party. After a variety of ex- 
clamations of surprise, we found that there was not 
even a loaf of bread within the four walls ; as to beds 
they were out of the question, as it was intended that we 
should profit by the cool of the night and continue our 
route to Terni after three hours' pause. The uproar 
now waxed louder and louder ; and I should at another 
time have laughed heartily, but as matters were could 
only smile from real exhaustion and weakness. The fierce 



214 NARNI. 

sun of the Campagna was still in my blood. Those 
who have heard how impossible, morally and physically 
impossible it is, for a born Italian to speak even in 
ordinary conversation ' mezza voce, ' may imagine the 
hubbub which issued from the basement story of the 
inn of Narni in the stillness of the night. The three 
ladies were foremost, and reiterated their complaints. 
My male companions and the vetturino were fertile in 
the utterance of that species of vituperation in which the 
Italian vocabulary is so rich ; the ostler, fag, and cham- 
ber-man were as fertile in excuses and retorts. Three 
strangers, apparently townsmen, came in, and added their 
voices to the general chorus ; and, in the very midst of 
the uproar, in rushed the landlord from a side door, with 
his pantaloons in his hand, and added a voice of no little 
volume to the fray. To crown all, from the half-opened 
door of the apartment whence the landlord made his 
sally, the shrill voice of a screaming baby and the clack 
of Signora the landlady might be heard in the pauses 
of the storm. The names both of heathen deities and 
Christian saints were bandied from mouth to mouth, in- 
termixed with much that I did not understand, but which 
did not sound to me the more proper or civil on that 
account. The landlord's appearance, and the frequent 
repetition of his favourite oath Corpo di Bacco 
seemed however to have some effect, for it suddenly 
fell calm, and the whole ended by bread being procured 
somehow or other. We had hardly swallowed the salad 
to which it was the accompaniment, when we were sum- 
moned to resume our seats. About sun-set on the fol- 
lowing day, we gained Spoleto; and the twilight was still 
lingering upon the clear chrystal stream of the Clitum- 



FOLIGNO. 215 

nus, as we passed close to its spring, and at the back 
of its fairy temple ; arriving finally about eleven at 
night at Foligno. 

July \9th. From this day I may date the resump- 
tion of my usual solitary and independent mode of 
travelling. After listening with shut eyes and half- 
shut senses to the disturbance kicked up at my room door 
between one and two o'clock, first by the landlord and 
assistants, under the idea that I intended to start 
with my former associates ; then by divers of the latter, 
supposing that I might have changed my mind, and 
would still bear them company ; I roused myself to 
set about the execution of my own projects, and about 
five o'clock quitted the town for my first station, 
Nocera, sixteen miles distant. Three routes had 
offered themselves over the main ridge of the Appen- 
ines towards the proposed end of this portion of my 
journey, the port of Sinigaglia. The first, that to the 
right by Macerata, Loretto, and Ancona, which I had 
already passed, and which the party I had now quitted 
had taken. The second, also a post road, by Nocera, 
Scheggia, Fossombron, and Fano, as much again to 
the left. Between these I hoped to find a more direct 
road by the town of Fabriano, though as to its charac- 
ters and bearings I could get no proper information. I 
wished to vary my route in returning, without adding 
to its length. Maps are a great desideratum in the 
pope's dominions, and Rome itself cannot furnish a 
good general map of Italy. 

The situation of Foligno is extremely beautiful, being 
situated near the foot of the central chain of the 
Appenines, in one of those splendid vales which are the 



216 NOCERA. 

glory of this division of these mountains. I proceeded on 
the main route towards the base of the latter, till, gaining 
their foot, the road leading to Nocera branched off to the 
left. By following this, I was led insensibly among 
the lower hills, over a diversified, cultivated and wood- 
land region for several hours ; passing many a beautiful 
dell, where the aged oaks had gathered themselves into 
a cluster, and combined with the wild vine which 
covered the brushwood, to offer a tempting place of 
repose, for the sun had not been above the horizon a 
couple of hours, before his beams became oppressive, 
and my knapsack also was now, from disuse, an un- 
wonted burden. Yet I have often remarked in this 
country with regard to such spots of grateful shelter 
and retirement, that where God had seemed to bless, 
man had allowed his vile passions to spread a curse ; 
for it is generally in these very places, that you see the 
revolting spectacle of the wooden lath cross and the 
rude heap of stones, marking the grave of a murdered 
person. 

I could not avoid smiling, on passing the ruins of a 
large bridge which had in a great measure been carried 
away by the waters of a torrent, to see how well St. 
Nepomuck, the patron of bridges, had looked to 
himself in the hour of peril, and let the rest of his 
charge go to destruction ; for there he stood, safe and 
sound, perched upon his pier, no way abashed at the 
desolation around, which showed how ill his devotees 
had bestowed their flowers and wax candles. After a 
walk of two or three hours, I came in sight of Nocera, 
one of the thousand hill-cities of this country, perched 
upon its height, and slowly climbed the stony serpent- 



NOCERA. 217 

ine road leading up to it. I had now abundance of 
time to think of my future movements, for here I 
must stay and detain my reader seven blazing hours, 
principally in the shelter of a wretched, dirty coffee- 
house, with noise, flies, and hubbub preventing as 
usual any serious occupation. I made two or three 
attempts, 'tis true, to see what the town contains, 
climbed the steep street till I found an ungainly, barn- 
looking old church, and then higher still to the con- 
vent which occupies the most elevated point, and after 
exposing myself about three minutes to the noon-day 
heat at a point within its precincts, commanding a very 
fine and extensive mountain view, returned half-blinded 
and tottering down again to my uncomfortable asylum 
without the gate. A second expedition was under- 
taken to a so-called inn, to see if I could procure 
something more nourishing than lemonade. I return- 
ed in abaut half an hour, greatly strengthened by 
the sense of a great and glorious victory obtained over 
the hostess, an old sybil with a face in shape and colour 
like that of an overgrown bell-wether, about the price 
of some unwholesome bread and wine, though the latter 
had failed to perform the office of a stimulant to 
either soul or body. All I could learn here, as to my 
proposed route, was, that a road did exist from 
Nocera to Fabriano, and that the latter town was 
twenty-four miles distant, with no village of any note 
or size between. To reach it was indeed another mat- 
ter : — however, I determined to set off, a few flying 
clouds about four o'clock having given me the 
needful courage. I made my escape slowly from the 
jumble of hills, in the midst of which, Nocera rears 



218 THE APPENINES. 

itself; and by following the main route to Scheggia for 
some time, entered a noble and spacious vale extend- 
ing for many miles between two ridges of mountains, 
and watered by a fine stream. My path, however, 
soon turned aside to the foot of the main chain to the 
right, and quitting the open country dived deeply into 
a wooded ravine in the first instance, then returned 
towards the vale, and traversed the shoulder of the 
mountain, into a yet more romantic defile covered with 
oak forest. The route ascended gradually, and at 
length emerged on the head of the ridge. I now 
overlooked a mountain region quite in the interior 
of the Appenines, wild and barely cultivated in the 
lower grounds, while the heights were partly forested 
and partly bare, and of a brick- red colour. No villages 
were to be descried, but here and there a detached build- 
ing, and a single isolated ruined tower in one of the 
ravines of the mountains. The heads of the latter had 
for the most part a roundish form. My line of descent 
led me considerably to the right into a little glen with 
a few houses, and then over a broken tract to the 
neighbourhood of a small village. Here I heard I was 
still fourteen miles distant from Fabriano. However, 
as the cool of evening came on, I felt stronger and in 
better spirits, and pressed forward to the crest of the cen- 
tral and most elevated chain of the Appenines which I 
reached in the twilight, and saw before me a defile which 
proved to be that of the Essino, the stream which I was 
to take as my guide during the greater part of my remain- 
ing route to Sinigaglia. The road was good, and there 
was no great art in keeping to it in the fine clear starlight. 
It brought me to the confines of a considerable village, 



FABRIANO. 219 

and then led yet deeper through a dark woody dell for 
some miles, till it finally emerged into a comparatively 
open country, and conducted me to Fabriano, where I 
arrived about eleven at night. A wearisome and try- 
ing half-hour then ensued, occupied with the search 
after some house where I could find the necessary food 
and entertainment. Few situations are more truly 
disheartening than this, after a heavy day's march 
especially and few things tend more to shed a drop 
of misanthropy into the spirit, than to find yourself 
rebutted and sent from door to door. At length, I 
succeeded, under circumstances which will always 
make me think of Fabriano with pleasure — an honest 
family gave me the necessary shelter, and means of 
brief repose — brief indeed, for at two o'clock, already 
on the morning of 

July 20th. — I was in motion, and on my road to- 
wards Jesi. I regret that the imperative necessity I 
was under of travelling early and late, and remaining 
immoveable during many hours in the middle of the 
day, prevents my describing as I would, in this part 
of my rambles, more than one interesting town out 
of the common route of travellers. From Sinigaglia I 
was still forty-six miles distant. Fabriano is a large 
town — so much I can say, situated in a clear open 
space of considerable extent, which here interposes 
itself between two chains of the Appenines. I was 
informed that it has many flourishing manufactures, and 
especially large paper mills. The population is about 
8000. It is to be questioned if the Pope knows he has 
such a town. I took the road leading straight across 
the level towards the opposite mountains, which are 



220 ST. QUIRICO. 

bolder in outline and details than those I had seen 
of late ; and was very glad, by the time the sun had 
risen, to be safe under their shadow. The river, on 
approaching- their foot, turns to the northward, down a 
confined and stony vale, accompanied by the road 
running on the declivities to the right for many miles, 
till they come into junction a little beyond the hamlet 
of Serra, at a spot where the Essino takes its passage 
through a narrow rocky gorge; one of those so 
common in the Alps, but of which this is the only 
specimen I have seen in the Appenines. The entrance, 
with a bold bridge of one arch, leading the traveller 
to the left bank, is very picturesque. I now exchanged 
shade for sunshine, and was so scorched by half an 
hour's exposure to the burning rays, that, upon issuing 
past the defile, and entering a more open vale, I rushed 
into the first shelter I found. This proved to be a 
wretched cabaret, near the hamlet of St. Quirico — a 
saint of whose title to canonization I am ignorant. Here 
I spent eight hours, panting for breath, in a hovel swarm- 
ing with flies, fleas, and tarantulas. The misery of the 
greater part of these mid-day halts I cannot describe. 

And now, gentle reader, you may be inclined to 
exclaim : ' If this be pleasure — what is pain 1 ' But 
do not deceive yourself, and be tempted to draw false 
conclusions. There may have been moments, in the 
course of this my pilgrimage, when both the spirit and 
body were jaded to a degree which others can little 
appreciate, who have not been in like circumstances. 
Mental trouble and exertion are not always to be 
avoided, let our position be what it may; and the 
pedestrian is also open to their attack. Circumstances 



ST. QUIRICO. 221 

may produce and add physical to moral suffering, or 
perhaps the latter may be in a measure the conse- 
quence of the former, and the weight of both may 
seem capable, in your utter solitude, of weighing you 
to the ground. But take heart : you may believe my 
testimony, that the sum and quality and order of your 
enjoyments, will, when put in the balance with your 
troubles, far outweigh them. Moreover the mercy 
and goodness of our Creator, has so moulded our minds, 
that past pleasures and enjoyments can always be viv- 
idly recalled to the recollection; — past suffering with 
difficulty, and seldom in detail. I have always considered 
it an advantage which we possess, as solitary wanderers, 
that we soon tire of listening to our own complaints, 
in other words, of maundering to ourselves. The 
mode of relief which I would recommend is, to try what 
good despairing thoughts will effect in the first in- 
stance, and, if you are so minded, to murmur to 
yourself for a good five minutes, and thus get rid of 
your impatient feeling : you may then be in a fit state 
to seek for other remedies. I own that, surrounded by 
flies, fleas, and musquitoes, it may be some time before 
you can get your philosophy and good humour upper- 
most. However, pray attempt it, and, having once suc- 
ceeded, do not let them be again overcome. Sometimes 
a very slight and trivial circumstance will give you 
considerable assistance. Thus, at St. Quirico, I 
recollect, after having been repeatedly bitten by my 
winged assailants, when I would have sunk into tran- 
sient repose, I first lost my assumed temper of 
patience and endurance ; and then suddenly took the 
fancy into my head to see how in all the world they 



222 ST. QUIRICO. 

effected their entry into my skin. I need not say that 
the very amusement produced by the experiment 
repaid me for the smart ; for it was curious to see the 
little blood-thirsty maurauder address himself to his 
work in quite a workmanlike manner — poise himself 
upon four of his delicate legs, while the other two 
were extended laterally, to keep him in balance. He 
then forced in his little transparent proboscis deeper 
and deeper, till I felt him in the quick, when, holding 
my hand between my eye and the light, I could see 
that it acted just as well as that of an elephant, and 
drew up a minute stream of blood into his little 
thirsty stomach. As has been said, the effort at once 
turned the tide of my reflections ; and the circum- 
stance, trivial as it was, led to thoughts which restored 
to my spirit both equanimity and patience. 

In the same manner, I would advise you to attempt 
by all means to divert your attention from your own 
person to other objects. The providence of God has 
surrounded us with objects of improving distraction, 
by considering which, we may be led to think of Him. 
If you are attentive, you will find that the same hand 
which in rocky, heated, and thirsty lands, has strewed 
the seeds of the finest aromatic shrubs and plants, 
preferably to those of any other species, for the com- 
fort and solace of the passenger ; has left no situation, 
however painful or disagreeable, where an antidote to 
your distress has not been placed within your reach. 
But you must rouse yourself to seek for it. 

After looking in vain for some opportunity of contin- 
uing my route to Jesi, sixteen miles distant, by a car- 
riage, and meeting with none ; on the approach of 



SINIGAGLIA. 223 

evening 1 , I issued from my hiding place, to get forward 
as well as I could. It was, to be sure, a toilsome 
pilgrimage, and I need not go into the detail. 
Mile went slowly after mile, down the long and tolera- 
bly open valley of the Essino ; the best cultivated and 
most thickly inhabited of any I had seen, though not 
the most picturesque : and some time after dusk I 
entered the large town of Jesi. At St. Quirico, you 
may be supposed to have quitted the Appenines. St. 
Jesi is a large and populous town, but I know little 
more of it, as, before day-break, I was in motion 
towards the sea-shore, and in the course of the 
morning, reached the busy town and port of Sinigaglia. 
Thus terminated my walk across the Appenines. From 
this port, which is situated upon the Adriatic about 
twenty miles north of Ancona, a fair wind will carry 
you in twenty-four hours to the harbour of Trieste, 
But as the reader will find, there was a trial of patience 
in store for me. 

The only point of attraction which Sinigaglia 
possesses for any one, beyond its immediate inhab- 
itants and the frequenters of its little port, is, the 
yearly fair held here from time immemorial. It 
has however very much fallen off within the last 
twenty years. There is nothing in the town to be 
seen, no antiquities, no churches of any beauty either 
in architecture or decoration, and nothing in the 
country round to excite the passing attention of the 
traveller : nothing is to be heard of, older than the 
last new pattern. This being the case, it may be 
supposed that my object was to get forward, and I soon 
found a small vessel ready to sail on the morrow. It was 



224 SINIGAGLIA. 

eventually unable to do so ; the wind being so strong 
that no vessel could either enter in or go out of the 
canal which forms the port. The news of the evening 
was perfectly Italian. A nobleman of the country, 
going to his house without the walls, about the time of 
ave Maria, was assassinated almost close to the gate. 

Another long day was spent in uncertainty; how- 
ever, after sunset the wind dropped for a short time, 
just allowing the little bark upon which 1 had pro- 
posed sailing, and another of like burden, to make 
their escape. I am not yet quite sure whether that 
was an advantage or a disadvantage. Leaving our 
comrade, in this first movement to his fate, I would draw 
my reader's attention to our vessel and its crew. The 
former belonged to the same species of craft 'yclept 
Trabaccolo, in which 1 made my passage, a month ago, 
to Ancona : — a decked boat with two masts, a move- 
able bowsprit jutting out of the left side of the high 
prow, and two large rhomboidal sails, capable of being 
employed in a variety of ways. I may add that its 
dimensions were about five and thirty feet long by 
twelve or thirteen broad. Cabin, there was none : 
two corners, boarded off, were allotted to the patron 
and the cook ; the crew, consisting of five men, were 
obliged to lie and sleep where they found a berth 
among the bales in the hold. I was myself the only 
passenger, and neither Signor padron nor any of his crew 
spoke a word of any other jargon than their own, a 
strange mixture between Istrian and Italian. I had 
nothing against the smallness of the vessel, but against 
the horrible state of uncleanliness which reigned in 
her, and every operation conducted aboard her, I had 



THE ADRIATIC. 225 

much to say, though nothing was to be done but to en- 
dure patiently. All the men were robust swarthy fel- 
lows, sufficiently good-natured also, and were all willing 
to make themselves serviceable. The small boat, attend- 
ant upon the Trabaccolo was taken upon deck, covered 
with a mat awning, and a mattress laid down in it for 
my bed ; it being well supposed that I should prefer 
the open air, under any circumstance, to the hole 
below deck. The only live stock, besides that already 
mentioned, were a little lively boy, heir to the virtues 
and grease of his dingy father, the cook ; and certain 
cocks and hens, whose numbers I judge to have been 
very considerable, as, after having been doomed to 
witness five several decimations of four each time, I 
still heard considerable cackling, when the mouth of 
the pit in which they were confined was opened. 

But I have unaccountably forgotten to mention, in 
its proper place, another and a prime feature in this 
peculiar species of craft, distinguishing it probably 
from all others. — The most conspicuous ornament of 
the Trabaccolo, is a sheep- skin, covering the square 
and lofty termination of the raised prow, which appears 
from the poop where I now sit (in spirit) like the un- 
combed and soiled wig of some sea- god. Little tufts 
of the same ornament are moreover affixed at the end 
of the long yards and the booms. 

It has struck me that there must be some connection 
between these sheep- skin decorations and the far-famed 
golden fleece expedition of Jason and the Argonauts ; 
for it is a fact of historical and poetical notoriety, that 
the Argo and its sheep-stealing crew were forced, after 
various shifts and turnings, to take refuge in the port 

Q 



226 THE ADRIATIC. 

of Pola over against us, and subsequently settled there. 
Perhaps, to these far times then, we may refer the 
existence of the sheep-skin ornament in the Trabaccolo, 
in these seas : and who knows but the present vessel has 
a good deal of resemblance to the Argo. The form of the 
whole hull is in some measure antique, and though 
modern naval science has taught men to make more 
use of sails, and less of the oar, yet six large oars are 
still preserved in the tale of the Trabaccolo's outfit, to 
be taken in hand when the sails are useless. I proceed 
to detail my own adventures, thoughts, trials, and 
reflections, as follows. 

The first night passed swiftly away. I was satisfied 
to be at length delivered from durance vile at Sini- 
gaglia, and to feel myself in motion : and, after long 
watching the fading lights of the town, twinkling to the 
westward, and calculating our probable progress before 
morning, under the influence of a geatle sirocco, I slunk 
to my birth. Early after day-break, however, I made my 
sortie, and could hardly believe my eyes, when I saw 
the promontory of Ancona still rearing itself at no 
great distance over the water. Our supposed sirocco 
had proved a partial and short-lived land breeze, 
and now the wind was, as it had been, directly 
contrary. The day however passed in tolerable con- 
tentment, and that species of calm impatience which 
certainly exists on board ship whether such a thing 
be found on land or not. — I had, however, leisure 
sufficient to see that my means of employing time were 
unusually restricted ; books, I had none in my present 
package ; writing, was impossible from the incessant, 
uneasy rock of our little boat, conversation equally 



THE ADRIATIC. 227 

so — and thought and observation both flag at times. 
Let us pass onward to 

July 25th. The promontory of Ancona appeared to be 
tied to our poop, so vain were all efforts to leave it 
behind, and what with this unwelcome object to the 
south-west, and the round-backed coast near Rimini to 
the north-west, which began to be prominent towards 
nightfall, it seemed as if the coast of Italy would never 
be lost sight of. The wind continued in the old quarter, 
except at noon, when about three hours' calm, did not 
do much to diminish our perplexities. The pitch of 
the boat, and the constant flapping to and fro of the 
sails, as the vessel rocked upon the short swell of the 
Adriatic, allowed of but little repose. Impatience 
began to work a little, and I think the patron, if I 
mistake not, wrenched the necks of the daily sacrifice 
with more than usual bitterness. A good deal of small 
swearing escaped his lips, and that of his comrades, 
during the day, mingled (I must do him justice) with 
many pious ejaculations, and some short prayers to the 
saints. The burden of all, however, was the exclama- 
tion ' Diavolo di vento ! ' However, enough of this. 
The sun went down to the horizon, and our second day 
of trial was drawing to an end. I may truly say, that 
whatever may have been my feeling of disappointment 
at seeing my hopes of soon gaining the destined port 
so strangely frustrated ; my general disgust and im- 
patience at the ' no canny ' situation In which I found 
myself, ( I allude to the dreadful uncleanliness, — 
other inconveniences being trifles in comparison), 
not to speak of the darker spirit of repining, against 
which I had afterwards to struggle, — yet sunset, 

Q 2 



228 THE ADRIATIC. 

that glorious, inexpressibly glorious spectacle to the 
eyes of those who float upon the bosom of the wide 
waters — never failed to bring a season of peace, an 
hour of calm enjoyment, a feeling of resignation, and 
a disposition to humble myself before God, and weigh 
his infinite mercies against his mild chastisements. 
If indeed the objects comprised within the mariner's 
range of vision, are few in number, and admit of com- 
paratively little variety ; though a species of same- 
ness may be said to dwell upon the scene around him 
for a greater proportion of his hours ; yet, there are 
seasons when the small number of these objects is 
materially favourable to their combining together scenes 
of, I would almost say, greater sublimity, than the 
variegated face of the land, with its endless diversity 
of objects and forms, ever produces. The sun, moon, 
stars, and the clouds above, and the ocean with its 
changeful surface below, are perhaps all — but they are 
as an open book to him, the pages of which alternately 
instil delight into his mind, or give warning of danger 
and peril. It is indeed an awful and delightful volume. 
The general seriousness, however, which stole over 
my spirits this evening as I sat on my favourite perch, 
in the after-part of our little vessel, with my attention 
fixed upon the west, and the gorgeous picture which 
it presented, was for an instant somewhat deranged by 
the unexpected show of devotion assumed by the rest 
of the inmates. I say my seriousness was discomposed, 
by what should, and probably under other circum- 
stances would have augmented it : for, after a day 
passed in gaming and similar pastimes, it pleased the 
greatest rogue on board ship, to recollect that it was, 



THE ADRIATIC. 229 

as he expressed it * Santa dominica," and hereupon 
pulling off his long red cap, he led off in the usual 
evening service, in which of course all joined, with more 
or less earnestness according as each was inclined. 
Long after the last streak of light from the north-west 
had ceased to linger upon the tranquil surface of the 
sea, (the wind had lulled as usual about sun set,) I 
withdrew into my hiding place, and with the exception 
of the man at the helm, the whole crew seemed in- 
clined to imitate my example. All became perfectly 
quiet on board, except the incessant and irregular flap 
of the sails, and roll of the booms as the bark rocked 
backward and forward. This cannot however have 
lasted long, for I was quickly roused from my first 
doze by the whistling of a gale, the rush of the waves, 
and the bustle of our little crew : aiad, protruding my 
head from my covert, I saw that all hands were busy 
reefing the sails, that bore down the side of the vessel 
to the water's edge, under the pressure of a violent 
blast, before which we were flying in any direction but 
the right one. The sky was perfectly clear and star- 
light, with the exception of a thin, pitchy-coloured string 
of clouds to the south west, from both edges of which 
an incessant stream of bright lightning was issuing. 
' Diavolo di vento, Signor,' said the patron to me as 
he passed to his usual seat near the helm, when -all was 
made snug. After an hour's violent fluster and threat, 
both wind and lightning ceased, and I was soon again 
at liberty to yield to the overpowering influence of 
drowsiness. 

Dawn found us but little removed from the spot where 
sun-set had left us, as the toil of tacking to and fro during 



230 THE ADRIATIC. 

the latter part of the night, only repaired in some measure 
the loss in our progress which we had endured during 
the squall. Rimini, or at least the mountains above it, 
still lay at our side : and it was not till towards evening, 
that we contrived to move sufficiently to the eastward, 
to descry the highest land of the opposite coast of Istria. 
The patron, passenger, and men seemed all equally tired 
of their situation. Many attempts to write were pro- 
ductive of very little good. A dolphin or two, a distant 
sail from time to time, were the only objects which 
drew the attention abroad the greater part of the day. 

The weather was precisely the same as yesterday. 
Contrary wind, morning and evening. Calms at noon 
and sun-set, and squall at night. The latter was not 
altogether unprovoked, for the crew seemed to think no 
ave Maria necessary. The sailors, from pure ennui, 
bethought themselves of their oars ; and putting four 
of them into the sea, rowed lazily for half an hour dur- 
ing the evening. While plying them, they chanted 
together a singularly melancholy melody which occu- 
pied about three strokes of the oar ; they then paused 
one stroke, and recommenced it again and again. 

Our stock of provisions consisted of a basket of pears, 
a cheese, a keg or two of thick, heavy, splenetic- 
tasted wine, sundry kinds of hard biscuit ; and prima- 
rily, though last in the list, the afore-mentioned pit 
full of cocks and hens ; for after the extraction of some 
fifteen or sixteen, there seemed to be no signs of our 
being put upon short allowance. The hour appointed 
for the decimation and preparation of these for our 
daily repast, never failed to be one of trial to me, since 
it was impossible to escape being witness of the whole 



THE ADRIATIC. 231 

process, which was far from being conducted in the tidy 
and merciful manner practised in civilized countries. 

In the course of the afternoon we were so far 
out of our proper course, that the hitherto contrary 
wind was now of some use in enabling us to ap- 
proach the coast of Istria; and in a short time the 
high summit of the Monte Caldara, or Maggiore, 
became perfectly distinct. Then followed a long 
line of coast stretching north and south. As we 
approached this, the tall church-spire and town of 
Rovigno became visible, and appeared to considerable 
advantage in the course of the evening, when we passed 
it at about five miles distance. Pola, with its beautiful 
harbour, Porto della Rosa, and its little cluster of 
valuable antiquities, lay too much to the southward to 
be descried ; and to own the truth, I was now compa- 
ratively indifferent about it. I had indeed all along 
wished, that if forced by the continued contrary winds 
to put into some harbour of the coast of Istria, that this 
might be the one, and in case of such a manoeuvre 
becoming necessary, should have exerted my influence 
with Signor Padron to bring it about l But now 

1 Pola is supposed to have been founded by Jason and the Argonauts, 
who, pursued by the Colchians, 1353 years before Christ, took refuge in 
this part of Istria. It became subsequently a Roman colony, and regis- 
tered in the time of Augustus 30,000 inhabitants; it now contains perhaps 
between 8 and 900. The Venetians robbed it of its most exquisite 
marbles, serpentines, and porphyries. The principal Roman antiquities 
are the amphitheatre, a triumphal arch, and the ruins of several temples. 
The amphitheatre is 400 feet long, 320 broad, and 81 in height. It has 
three stories, the two inferior containing each seventy-two arches, 18 feet 
high; the topmost contains square windows. The total number of 
openings is 216. The architecture is of the Corinthian order, and it 
differs from every structure of the kind, in having four angular projections. 



232 THE ADRIATIC. 

Trieste ! was the key-stone to all my plans and wishes. 
Our progress along the coast was now uninterrupted 
for some hours preceding the close of day, and we 
were alternately presented with distant views of the 
little ports of Orsera, Parenzo, Citta Nova and Omago. 
The Monte Caldara seems to be the only hill of any 
magnitude in the peninsula. It is close to the eastern 
coast, and not very far from Fiume. 

Towards six o'clock, the wind which had hitherto 
been not the most unfavourable, began as usual to flag. 
The crew seemed inclined to amuse themselves by 
hunting for muscles with a drag-net on board, and in 
doing so also amused me. 

The great deep has always been, and will always be, 
a ' marvel and a mystery' to me, and the most common 
and insignificant of its productions excites in my mind 
a species of wonder allied to awe, which is perfectly 
distinct from the sensation bearing the same name 
with which I regard the productions of the land, 
wonderful and incomprehensible as many of them are. 
I still hold the most common shell or sea- weed in my 
hand with a species of childish pleasure and astonish- 
ment ; and having avowed this, it may be imagined that 
I opened my eyes as wide as possible, when, after being 
allowed to drag slowly along the bottom for five mi- 
nutes, the net was hauled up to the deck with a tolera- 
ble load of something or other within its meshes. The 

It was capable of containing 18,000 spectators; that of Verona, 24,000. 
The inhabitants give it the name of the Orlandina. The triumphal arch, 
or Porto Auria, is tolerably perfect. Besides a small temple in tolerable 
preservation, with Corinthian columns, there are ruins of another dedi- 
cated to Diana, the fragments of a third at the present cathedral, and many 
Roman fragments strewed about the city. 



THE ADRIATIC. 233 

contents were turned out before me, and while others 
were searching for the muscles of which there were 
but few, I was busily employed in collecting from out 
of the mud and slime a number of strange inhabitants 
of the waters, all of which were new to me. That the 
hand of the Great Creator has shaped them and given 
them life, we know and feel ; but beyond this, all is a 
blank, and our very fancy is quite insufficient to ima- 
gine the end and purposes of their creation. The 
animals that are under our daily notice and observation 
have for the most part according to our ideas, their 
places and duties in the great chain of existence ; and 
even of many, and I may say of most of those, whose 
habits and character remove them from the immediate 
service of man, there is reason to believe the same. 
But look at this little heap of living matter, without 
shape, without regularity of parts, without senses of 
any description, as far as we can discover, or even the 
power of locomotion, apparently springing from the 
slime of the waters, and spending its existence in the 
spot of its creation, to what end? to what purpose? That 
there is a purpose, I believe ; but it is as inconceivable to 
me, as the movement of the stars through the firmament. 
And how small a proportion these six or seven beings, 
brought to my observation by accident, form of that 
innumerable swarm of living creatures, which, dwelling 
in the deep sea, have never been, and will never be seen 
by the eye of man ! Among the mountains and vallies 
of the fathomless oceans of the east and west, seldom 
or never traversed by man, where the tornado spends 
its fury, and the lightnings of the tropics blaze unseen 
by any human eye, what research shall ever bring 



234 THE ADRIATIC. 

to light the treasures of God's creation ; pry into the 
secrets of the caverns of the deep, or of the intermin- 
able forests of colossal weed, which there vegetate and 
rot, unexplored from age to age ! 

The calm which spread over the waters after sun-set, 
when we were just within sight of the long point of 
Salvore, round which our course lay into the Bay of 
Trieste, was followed, about two hours after, by a vio- 
lent Bora, which tossed us about with reefed sails for 
the greater part of the night, and indeed still blew with 
great violence, when at sun-rise we made, with great 
and incessant exertion on the part of the crew, the 
light-house of Salvore. From this point to Trieste the 
distance is eighteen miles, and had the Bora been for us, 
instead of directly in our teeth, two hours would have 
brought us to an anchor ; but the whole of this day 
also, {July 28th.) from sun-rise to sun-set was to be 
added to the number spent in making our perverse 
passage, and it was not without the greatest exertion 
that even this was brought about. The whole day was 
however bright, and afforded much more interest, as will 
be supposed, than any of the preceding ones. As the 
vessel slowly, and by frequent long tacks, weathered 
the point, and made successively the capes of Pi- 
rano and di Ronco, a full opportunity was afforded 
me of examining at my leisure, the detail of the mag- 
nificent spectacle which the Bay of Trieste presents to 
the eye, on approaching it from the southward. 

A deep blue basin of agitated waters stretched out 
before us to the northward, spotted by the white can- 
vass of a multitude of vessels of all burdens ; some 
painfully employed like ourselves, in successive tacks 



THE ADRIATIC. 235 

to and from the nearer coast of Istria, and others coming 
out of port with steady and well filled- sails, rejoicing in 
the protection and favour of the saints, and of mother 
Mary, whose image shone in a little frame at the mast 
head. Not one of the sailors on board our Trabaccolo, 
was without his amulet from Loretto about his neck, to 
save him from drowning ; whatever may be its efficacy in 
emergences of this kind, I doubt whether it is consid- 
ered to be equally potent in cases of hanging or stabbing. 
But to go on with my picture. On the right, lay the 
receding points of land just mentioned, and still further 
to the left, certain low portions of the coast off Aquileja. 
But whatever attention these might excite, it was but 
momentary, compared with the long and admiring gaze 
bestowed upon every portion of that noble mountain 
background, which seemed to rise immediately from the 
margin of the deep bay before us. This commenced 
with the sterile chains immediately to the East of 
Trieste, occupying the whole of the north of Istria. 
Then the mountains of that portion of lllyria called 
Carniola standing somewhat in advance of the Julian 
Alps ; the latter lay almost due north, presenting a 
long, elevated, and varied range, prolonged far to 
westward, by the mountainous ridge of the south- 
east of Tyrol. A broad, square pile of precipitous rock, 
near the centre of the chain, particularly engaged my 
attention. I never saw a coast that presents itself with 
equal majesty. My spirits rose at the mere idea of my 
homeward path leading me amidst such glorious scen- 
ery ; but I little imagined how many hours must be 
spent in dragging myself across the heated plains of 
Friuli, which intervened between the coast and these 



236 THE ADRIATIC. 

blue ridges. Trieste must however be reached before 
any thing could be done, or a single step taken. So 
slow however was our real progress, that though we 
glided through the water with great velocity, hour 
after hour passed, before the white walls of the town 
itself rose at the bottom of the bay ; and I was doomed, 
contrary to my modest hopes, to witness a fifth sacri- 
fice drawn from the fathomless repository, and summa- 
rily disposed of. Noon passed, the afternoon advanced, 
the hills began to redden, ere we could form a just idea 
of the time of our reaching our destination. At one 
time we seemed close off Aquileja, the cradle of the 
Venetians, and a very long run to the northward, after 
diving deep into the bay of Capo d' Istria, brought us 
within a few miles of Duino ; so easy was it to make 
any town on the surrounding coasts, that excepted, 
upon which our hopes and eyes were fixed ! At length, 
about eight o'clock, we fairly came into the harbour, 
and as it fell dead calm, were finally towed into the 
canal : landing just five days and nights after I had 
embarked. 

Ten days had elapsed since the merchants had re- 
ceived intelligence of their associates at the fair in 
Sinigaglia, and the bustle on our arrival was corres- 
pondingly great. Escaping from this, I repaired to my 
former hotel. To stay one day in Trieste was abso- 
lutely necessary ; a longer pause I did not deem it 
advisable to allow myself, as I had lost an entire week 
at Sinigaglia and at sea. 



CHAPTER VII. 



• All is still, and nothing to be heard 
But the cicala's voice among the olives, 
Relating in a ring, to banish care 
Their hundred tales.' 



The short pause in my wanderings following- my second 
arrival at Trieste, soon came to an end : and the resump- 
tion of my alpenstock and knapsack gave me more than 
ordinary satisfaction. The rocking motion of the Tra- 
baccolo had entered strangely into my system, and as I 
walked the streets the morning after my landing, I 
could not help keeping my feet as wide apart as pos- 
sible to avoid tumbling. Moreover, I thirsted after 
the fresh breezes, shadows, and waters of the Alps, 
to which every step was now to bring me nearer. 

It was with no pleasant feeling, that owing to the 
weakness of my own nature in oversleeping myself, 
and the frailty of the promises of the domestic of my 
hotel, I found myself necessitated to commence my 
journey as late as five o'clock, as by that hour the 
sun had attained a certain height ; and though he had 
not yet looked over the screen of hills that surround 
the city of Trieste, I knew well that he was gather- 
ing force, and by the time I had surmounted the 
ridges to the northward, would be in condition to make 
me fully sensible of it. In the meantime, however, I 
was not disposed to undervalue the temporary shelter 



238 OPTSCHINA. 

I enjoyed. The view that opens gradually, as you 
ascend, is of no ordinary description ; and one feature 
after another is added, either to the distance, or to the 
portion at first hidden by the inequalities of the 
mountain, till upon gaining the last ridge, you have the 
whole spread out before you. The broad and spacious 
bay of Trieste, with its white city, and the hills be- 
hind, towards Fiume, then formed the middle ground 
of the picture ; further sea-ward lay the four receding 
promontories of Punta Granda, Capo d' Istria, Pirano, 
and Salvore, with the details of which 1 had had so good 
an opportunity of becoming acquainted ; — the last-men- 
tioned fading away into the line of the distant waters. 
To the right of the open sea, different points in the 
coast towards Aquileja, likewise advanced far into 
the bay. The whole of the city and the country be- 
hind was lying in bright sun-shine, and the light 
thrown on it, contrasted wonderfully with the dark 
purple hue assumed by the water, upon which the Bora 
was blowing freshly. Many vessels, their clear white 
sails filled with the wind, were to be seen in every 
direction ; here, fully displayed in every portion of their 
structure, standing just out of port, or sailing below 
the mountain immediately at your feet ; there, a glim- 
mering spot of white gaining the open sea, or turning 
the point of Salvore. 

On passing the summit of the ridge, I descended 
gradually to the village of Optschina, where the two 
roads to Vienna and the Friuli separate ; and turning 
my back upon the east, I began my route in the oppo- 
site direction, and kept steadily advancing, without 
much variation in the rate of my progress, for the next 



duino. 239 

three hours. During this interval, the road lay along 
a species of plain stretching between the head of the 
range immediately overlooking the sea, and a second 
interior chain of roundish hills. The character of the 
country was precisely the same as that described at a 
former part of these wanderings, when a visit to the 
caves at Cornial introduced me to a portion of the same 
district more to the eastward. — It is a desert of stone, 
cursed with sterility by that fierce scourge of these 
coasts, the Bora ; yet in many places rendered produc- 
tive by the toil of the peasant, and the care employed 
upon such spots, as, from their position, are but par- 
lially exposed to its blast. Towards the hills, the grey 
stone is studded with small bushes, and in general there 
is abundance of thyme and rosemary in every part. 
During the latter stage of the latter part of my walk 
towards Duino, I had recourse continually to that 
kind of consolation in suffering that is derived from 
comparison ; and while panting, with dimmed and 
blood-shot eyes, amid this stony wilderness, I thanked 
God that though the heat was almost insufferable, 
yet there was no Roman sirocco to work up my 
endurance to a climax : on the contrary, now and then 
there came a kindly breeze from the sea, which did 
much towards momentary alleviation. Besides, I 
had my face turned towards the blue and towering 
mountains forming the Oberland of the Friuli, and 
the very sight of them spoke to me of clear streams, 
shadows, and fresh air ! I have indeed learned to 
know their value — to covet and bend with extacy over 
every pool of water in which there is motion or shade — 
to hail every square yard of shadow as a blessing. 



240 MONFALCONE. 

Of the sea you discern nothing again till you approach 
Duino, though the road runs at a very short distance 
from the crest of the hills that overhang it, during the 
whole of the way from Optschina. Then, however, by 
a bend in the coast, the road commands two several 
points of view, one towards Aquileja, and the other 
towards Trieste — though I am not sure that the latter 
city is to be descried. I shall always retain an agreeable 
recollection of my double visit there, and of the hospita- 
lity of which it was the scene. It forms the key-stone 
in some measure to my long and varied pilgrimage. 
About ten o'clock A. M. I arrived at Duino, and thought 
myself wonderfully favoured to find shelter under one 
of those screens of dried leaves and branches which are 
commonly found before cabarets in this part of Italy. 
Duino has a large castle belonging to the Count of 
Thurn, but is itself a little insignificant village. 

About a couple of miles from Duino, the traveller 
comes unexpectedly upon a fresh abundant stream 
bursting out of the rocky soil, and forming a very 
respectable river during its short course of about a 
quarter of a mile to the sea, with whose waters it 
shortly mingles itself. It is no doubt the offspring of 
some of those caverns, which to every appearance, 
exist in this, as in other portions of the range. Here 
you gain your last glance of the Adriatic, as the coast 
from this point bends southward, and the road turns 
yet more inland to the town of Monfalcone. At this 
place I arrived early in the afternoon, and after a 
short halt proceeded to Gradiska. The low range of 
hills which I had seen to the left, during my whole 
walk to Optschina, terminates on the left bank of the 



GRADISRA. 241 

lsonzo, one of those many rivers, which draining the Alps 
of Friuli and the adjacent chains, cover very considerable 
portions of the plains which they traverse in their progress 
to the Adriatic, with broad beds of sand and pebbles ; 
such being the force and volume of their winter supply 
of water, while in summer many are dried up entirely, 
and most reduced to puny rivulets. The lsonzo, how- 
ever was still of a considerable width and strength of 
current, and required the use of the boat-bridge to 
cross. While awaiting the arrival of this conveyance 
from the opposite bank, I sat in a most enviable state 
of enjoyment, with my scorched feet up to the ancles 
in the fresh stream, and enjoyed the widely extended 
prospect of the mountains to which I was gradually 
approaching. I shall have more to say of them to-mor- 
row. The town of Gradiska lay some short distance 
up the opposite bank, and towards it I bent my steps 
without delay as soon as my crossing was effected. It is 
surrounded with old-fashioned fortifications covered with 
grass. No building of any note attracted my attention. A 
hunt for a place of repose terminated in my obtaining one 
of the homeliest, as to appearance — but I have learned 
to care very little about that, and the hard mattresses 
of Italy, however they may happen to be placed, whether 
upon the floor or upon carved work, have the same 
charm for me. Gradiska lies so near the frontier," and is 
so connected with the German roads, that some know- 
ledge of that language is pretty general amongst the 
inhabitants. Besides, the soldiery of which there are 
plenty to be met with every where, are almost all of 
that nation. I should not however, omit to mention 
that what common report conveyed to my ears at 

R 



242 THE PLAINS OF FRIULI. 

Trieste, of the unsettled state of this line of route, and 
the danger of traversing- them alone, met with fresh 
confirmation in every place I passed through. Govern- 
ment messengers, as well as private individuals, had 
been attacked and robbed of large sums. The place 
where I was told that there was most probability of 
having my throat cut, was on a stretch of road of about 
eighteen miles in length, between Udine and the 
mountains. I had doubts about the extremity of the 
danger, and resolved to proceed. 

July 3>\st. I left Gradiska about five o'clock, and 
pursued my course towards the mountains. I had 
now entered upon the plains of Friuli, which in every 
respect, cultivation included, resemble those of Lom- 
bardy, of which they are a continuation. I must say I 
like the distant appearance of these rich and teeming 
enclosures, better than a nearer acquaintance. They 
present every where, without variation, the same inter- 
change of maize, vines, corn, and lopped trees, except 
now and then the barren bed of a winter torrent or a 
hamlet. Full-grown timber is hardly to be found. 
Besides, the productions above enumerated, are just 
of sufficient growth to intercept the view of distant 
objects, without affording shade to solace the traveller. 
The whole of my route of twenty-four miles to Udine 
was of this character. Now and then I gained a 
general view of the mountains, by some fortuitous rise 
in the general level, and that was indeed a noble one. 
Though the range immediately bordering the Adriatic, 
and extending from beyond Trieste to Gradiska, is too 
low, stony, and deficient in marked features to be very 
interesting, the interior ranges of this portion of Illyria, 



THE PLAINS OF PRIULI. 243 

properly termed Carniola, must bear a very different 
character, judging from a fine diversified range seen in 
that direction. Beyond them, came the mountains of 
Friuli, exhibiting a multitude of points, soaring over 
a very precipitous chain in advance. Among these a 
square broad mass of mountains were particularly con- 
spicuous. These were prolonged more to the west, by 
the ranges to the north of the Venetian States, stretch- 
ing almost as far as the defiles of the Brenta. I found 
means to doze away about three of the hottest hours in 
a village by the way. 

I may perhaps be doing well to break the narration 
of these days' proceedings, as they present of them- 
selves no great variety, by turning again to one 
of those subjects connected with pedestrian rambles 
which I have taken upon me to intersperse from time 
to time in these chapters, less perhaps for the informa- 
tion of the general reader, than for the sake of good 
fellowship with the ideal companion whose presence I 
have so often invoked. For the time, I make choice 
of noon ; and for the place, the settle before the door 
of a vile Italian cabaret by the road side, between 
Gradiska and Udine, where I halted during the 
burning hours of mid-day. Before us are the glow- 
ing and dusty road and the dust-besprinkled inci- 
sures of vine, maize, and hemp, which are the cul- 
ture of these wide plains. At our right hand a 
rude table, with a stoup of heavy thick red wine, a 
morsel of dry bread, and a large bottle of water, 
with a swarm of expectant flies, buzzing with jealousy 
and enjoyment. On the opposite side of the door, 
a like table with five Italian peasants, three partaking 

R 2 



244 THE PLAINS OF FRIULI. 

of a similar repast in silence, and two stretched on 
the bench seemingly asleep. Another sleeping group 
may be seen lying under the shadow of an out-house in 
a line with the front of the cabaret. From the interior 
of the cabaret, come the mingled shouts and impreca- 
tions of a party playing at a favourite game of 
chance. Last mentioned, but not least important, there 
expands over our head, and along the whole facade of 
the house, an awning of matted and dried foliage, 
sufficiently thick to exclude the rays and heat of the 
sun, and for that we will bless God. Under our elbow, 
and supplying the place of a velvet cushion, lies our 
stout leather knapsack ; and on the table within reach, 
the trusty Alpenstock, as good and as true a companion 
as man was ever blessed with. In this and like situa- 
tions, you may perhaps doze with weariness, and even 
enjoy broken but necessary repose : and I have done it 
without fear and anxiety. Yet I avow that I have 
sometimes, on my gradual return to consciousness, felt a 
disagreeable qualm at finding myself the object of fixed 
attention of one or even several pair of dark and glisten- 
ing eyes, whose furtive but fierce glances betrayed the 
subject of the passing thoughts. In these cases, suppos- 
ing that you have reason to believe that, all things consi- 
dered, your person may have excited the cupidity and 
speculation of one or other of these lawless beings, who 
may have gambled away his all within, I think you may 
choose between these two alternatives : — either, while 
keeping quietly on your guard, and in choosing well the 
moment of departure, not to take the slightest direct 
notice, though seeing and marking all ; or, to return the 
glance by one equally steady. I have set it down as an 



THE PLAINS OF FRIULI. 245 

axiom, that the lawless Italian is a coward, who will never 
confront you breast to breast, as long as there is any 
chance of getting at your back, or dealing wounds without 
risk to himself. I must still add to this digression from 
the principal subject which I still wish to introduce, that, 
there are certain precautionary measures which you may 
as well take, as tending to keep others out of temptation, 
and perhaps yourself out of some danger. Never 
expose gold, or even large pieces of silver at such times 
and places, and keep other valuables out of sight. 
Pay what you owe in small coin, the moment you 
have your refreshment brought you ; this leaves you at 
liberty to take your departure without further question 
or observation. And above all, having done whatever 
lies in your power to avoid danger, without giving 
way to too great anxiety and still less to cowardice, put 
your trust in God. 

I have some pages ago, had occasion to allude to those 
fits of mental impatience and depression which will 
sometimes be our lot in the course of a long pilgrimage, 
and as to the kind of antidote I should propose to 
apply. It may be that you are rarely troubled by 
such, and that you never fall into them, except at times 
when the weight of outward and physical inconvenience 
or suffering' becomes almost insupportable. Hun- 
ger, thirst, faintness from heat and over exertion, are 
perhaps the more common incidents which may exer- 
cise a temporary and painful power over you. As to 
cold, we will not account it among the number just at 
present, as it is difficult to us in our present situation, 
to imagine, that it can ever be otherwise than an exqui- 
site enjoyment. The three things enumerated, how- 



246 THE PLAINS OF FRIULI. 

ever, belong to the class of more ordinary trials ; — as 
to extraordinary, such as those produced by accidents, 
I will not here take them into account. There are ways 
of alleviating 1 all three. Faintness from heat, and 
too great exertion, gentle reader, may be astonish- 
ingly alleviated by a little extra patience : but if you 
must seek other aid, you may have recourse to 
the herbs of the field, and there are few situations 
where you will not find such as will answer your 
purpose. I am supposing that water is unattainable. 
On the borders of even dry ditches and torrents, you 
will frequently find abundance of cats-mint ; the most 
barren tracts will surely afford plants of the same 
aromatic and reviving properties, such as sage, balm, 
rhue, thyme, wormwood, and rosemary. In the driest 
pine forests, the foliage affords you a stimulant when 
rubbed between the fingers : and, supposing you 
stand in need of one yet stronger, you need never 
remain without a remedy to your distress, provided 
you can discover one of those tall ants' nests, built of 
the dried needles of the pine, which are so frequently 
seen within them : as, by striking the swarming deni- 
zens gently two or three times with your hand or 
glove, you borrow for your own use a quantity of 
their powerful acid, without injuring them; and no 
vinegrette could render you better service. As to 
thirst, your first duty, even when the presence of 
tempting springs would seem to make the effort a 
labour of supererogation, is to struggle against it ; for, 
having once yielded, you will never be able to avoid 
seeking to satisfy it ; and at a later hour of the 
day your suffering, supposing that that satisfac- 



THE PLAINS OF FR1ULI. 247 

tion becomes impossible, will be doubled. Bathing the 
person, or hands alone, is frequently a great resource, if 
you wish to avoid drinking. The alleviation produced by 
wood-sorrel is known to every English school-boy. A 
pebble in the mouth has often relieved the pain of a 
dry and parching thirst. But both against this trial 
and that of hunger I have a remedy, which I have 
always found very effective, and that consists in a few 
roasted coffee-beans, a store of which will take up but 
little room in your knapsack. Trust me, reader, this 
is a prescription of wondrous power ; and, by keeping 
them for half an hour unbroken, you may almost, if 
you are credulously inclined, cheat yourself into the 
idea of your having enjoyed a good dinner ; and, in the 
continental fashion, been served with a cup of cafe 
noir after it; in the same manner as you may daily see 
at Paris, on dit, certain impoverished epicures and 
gastronomes standing before the windows of their fa- 
vourite culinary artists, inhaling the rich steam, gloat- 
ing on the passing dishes, and munging a piece of dry 
bread, to cheat themselves into the idea of their having 
feasted delicately. 

Yet, now that the sun is declining, and all the 
rogues seem to be out of the way, let us continue our 
route. 

Early in the course of the evening I arrived at the 
town of Udine. Owing to my Lord Commissary of 
police being at dinner, I found myself obliged to 
spend the rest of the day and night here. However, 
though I was displeased to be forced to do even 
what I had otherwise every incentive to do, for such 



248 UDINK. 

a reason, I did not regret it, as I found abundance 
of employment. Udine, the capital of the Friuli, 
must once have been a town of very considerable 
importance. It is still large, and surrounded by 
an extent of wall, which proves it to have been yet 
larger. It is built in an irregular manner round a large 
knoll, rising up amidst these vast plains, and the tra- 
veller is immediately struck with the fond spirit of 
imitation of the capital city Venice, which is evinced 
in many of its buildings. The town-hall, the two 
Columns, the tower with the two figures to strike 
the hours, the angel at the summit of the church- 
tower on the hill, and the winged lion of St. Mark, and 
dome on the Caserne, all provoke a smile in recollect- 
ing their prototypes at Venice. The first-mentioned 
building is small, but by no means despicable. But the 
oldest and most remarkable edifice is the Byzantine 
cathedral, patched and disfigured it is true, but contain- 
ing very beautiful details, and preserving at least its 
general form. The massive octagonal tower was per- 
haps never finished. One or two doorways are toler- 
ably perfect and extremely curious. It has five aisles. 
The view from the eminence is very fine, comprising a 
large extent of the plains of Friuli, and with many 
towns and villages, and a magnificent mountain horizon 
to the north. From the latter you are still about fifteen 
miles distant. Most of the towns within sight have 
become celebrated in the history of Napoleon's cam- 
paigns, for these plains were the arena upon which he 
gained a portion of his early and most glorious laurels. 
A very early hour the following morning found me 
again on the road. After the first few miles, each 



GEMONA. 249 

step became more interesting", as the surface exhi- 
bited greater unevenness. The productions of the 
country were planted with less formality of arrange- 
ment, and the villages appeared uncommonly pictur- 
esque. They are literally buried in vines, and their 
white walls and pretty churches, add greatly to 
the beauty of the landscape. The mountains, the 
mountains ! how I rejoiced to see their shadows once 
more, so blue and so cool. About three miles from 
Gemona, you encounter the first hills, and with that 
town, your communication with the flat and fertile 
plains may be said to terminate. It is situated near the 
base of a mountain on the left side of the valley of the 
Tagliamento, into whose defile you are now upon the 
point of entering. The church of Gemona presents 
itself with great effect on one knoll, while the ruin of 
an ancient castle not two hundred paces distant, crowns 
another. I think I have elsewhere remarked, that my 
map of this part of the country was of the most meagre 
kind, and my information about the district I was 
passing through equally so ; my surprise was therefore 
the greater, when, on entering the gate and turning 
round to the main front of the church, I saw a facade 
of uncommon beauty, in what may be termed the 
florid Byzantine style ; and upon the whole, a finer and 
a more perfect specimen than any I had seen in Italy. 
The proportions, it is true, were not great ; three rose- 
windows, and of these the central one particularly, were 
its principal ornaments. The interior too was uninjured, 
and in very good taste ; and further, on entering the 
town, I found Gemona to have yerj considerable 
claims to be called such, being of tolerable dimensions, 



250 TOLMEZZO. 

with a market place, busy faces, and all the usual 
et ceteras. A shabby procession that perambulated the 
streets while I remained there, gave me occasion to 
observe, that there was no inconsiderable number of the 
priesthood within the walls, and that the church ranked 
as a cathedral, and had its regular dean and chapter. 
Properly speaking, the town commands no view of the 
plains, though a fine fertile tract of level ground, culti- 
vated in a regular manner, lies between it and the Tag- 
liamento. My stay was not a long one. I intended to 
make my principal halt at Venzone, a few miles dis- 
tant, and walked on accordingly. I soon found myself 
in a vale that narrowed at every step and was deprived 
of culture, the broad stony bed of the Tagliamento 
having taken possession of the whole, but surrounded 
with rocky eminences ; — in short, once more within 
the bosom of a mountain district. The reader would 
smile, if I described the influence that this had 
upon my very step and motion, not to speak of my 
spirits, which rose as they do before a thunderstorm. 
I arrived at Venzone, an ancient village surrounded 
by a wall, situated near the point, where my proposed 
path was to diverge from the great German road on which 
I had been hitherto toiling. I reposed myself during 
my usual number of hours, and then set forward to 
complete my ten leagues by reaching Tolmezzo. To 
do this I had to keep the line of the Tagliamento, 
through a vale opening to the westward. A wooden 
bridge of great length, situated about two miles from 
Venzone, bestrides the broad bed of a tributary 
stream, and by traversing it I got into my proper 
track. My walk was long and very hot, and I need not 



PASS OF THE MONTE CROCE. 251 

go over any part of it again, because it offered nothing 
remarkable to my notice. I would only remark that the 
continuation of the vale of the Tagliamento beyond 
Tolmezzo, judging from my distant view of it, would 
appear to abound in noble mountain scenery. Beyond 
this day's march, I did not intend to take this river for 
my guide : finding that another lateral vale would lead 
me more immediately to the northward. At Tolmezzo I 
found a good inn, and went to rest, with the hope that 
the close of another day would see me, not at Lienz per- 
haps, but at any rate in a country which might be called 
German. I have almost forgotten to say, that I passed 
the redoubted portion of the route to day, without either 
having my throat or my purse cut, for which I am truly 
thankful, and trust my reader will be so too. 

The Pass of the Monte Croce, by which I meditated 
passing over into the Gailthal, was some centuries ago 
a well-frequented one, but having been neglected, fell 
gradually into disuse, and was literally forgotten by 
the Austrian government, till during the late wars, 
it afforded to the French General Husca, the means 
of passing from Germany to Italy, with a rapidity 
which confounded the unenterprising Austrians, who 
could not conceive from whence he had fallen. It 
was undoubtedly known to the Romans, the ruins 
of whose ancient town of Forum Julii, lie in the 
valley of Paluzza leading to its foot. Its site is 
now occupied by the village of Zuglio, and many 
inscriptions and fragments of pillars are yet to be 
met with. I regret that I did not know this at 
the time of my passage. I shall give a very short 
notice of to-day's proceedings ; in truth, the passage 



252 PALUZZA. 

yielded no adventure, From Tolmezzo, as I have 
already mentioned, I was no longer to pursue the course 
of the river Tagliamento as my guide, but take that 
of its tributary, flowing almost directly from the north- 
ward. Paluzza the principal village in the valley was 
about ten miles distant, and was reached at a tolerably 
early hour. I should not however omit to eulogize the 
uncommon beauty of two or three hamlets, built among 
the irregular grounds on the right bank of the stream, 
through which the rural pathway winds to and fro. 
They present a perfect labyrinth of trees, vines, and 
cottages. From Paluzza a long dreary and burning 
league over a slope, deposited by the torrents and 
covered with low bushes, and disfigured by the frightful 
multitude of crosses denoting violent death which meet 
the eye, brought me to Tamao, the highest village. 
Hence, after a few hours rest, I proceeded towards the 
head of the vale, deep sunk in the pine forest and 
overshadowed by the massive heads of several rocky 
mountains, of which one should be the Monte Croce ; 
a rapid ascent of an hour then brought me to the 
head of the Pass. I am informed that three Latin 
inscriptions are visible in the rocks near the summit. A 
short and rapid descent leads to a little Alpine pasture, 
wooden church and chalet. At the edge of the former 
you enter upon the great declivity, and the pathway 
continues to descend for nearly eight miles down the 
deep ravine, first in the pine and larch forest, and then 
through magnificent woods of beech, till the noble 
mountains and sweet vale of the Gail opens below you. 
The former are very lofty and bold in their outline, 
the valley spacious, and architecture of the village 



THE GA1LTHAL. 253 

churches very graceful. The valley of the Gail is 
within the frontiers of Carniola. 

Passing through Mauten the first village on the 
right bank, I struck straight across the valley to the 
opening on the opposite side, at the entry of which lies 
another of great beauty, and here I took up my night 
quarters. I looked forward to Lienz, six leagues fur- 
ther, as the ideal conclusion of my Italian ramble. The 
inhabitants of this valley pretend to speak German, 
though the dialect that passes current among themselves 
can hardly be termed such. 

Before commencing another day's march, I have 
still one or two general observations to make about the 
Pass of the Monte Croce. In its present state, 
the whole extent, from the valley of the Tagliamento 
to that of the Gail, can hardly be said to be a passage 
for carriages however light and rude in their con- 
struction ; even to pilgrims journeying on foot, — I 
speak feelingly, — it is stony in extreme in its whole 
extent. The scenery is interesting upon the whole, 
and as far as wood and mountain suffice to give this 
character, the latter portion from the summit of the 
ridge to the Gail, is remarkably so. A plan has been 
long spoken of to construct a good road which would 
particularly benefit Trieste, but as that would entail 
an enormous expence to the merchants of that city, 
(the government taking no part,) the idea may be sup- 
posed to be chimerical. 

A woody and picturesque pass of about two leagues 
which I accomplished before breakfast, conducts the 
traveller over a road practicable for light carriages, into 
the great valley of the Drave, and to the village of 



254 LIENZ. 

Ober Drauburg. Four leagues further, directly up the 
same, brought me about noon to Lienz, which it will 
be recollected I had already visited in the earlier part 
of this journey. Lienz was, properly speaking, no 
less than three leagues out of my way, as I might 
have proceeded straight from Drauburg to Winkeln, 
in the vale of Dbllach, where I designed to spend 
the night. However, I had determined to dispense, 
as I well might, with the majority of the contents 
of my knapsack on my next excursion, that to 
the Great Glockner, by forwarding them to Botzen ; and 
this I should not have found an opportunity of doing 
from any other place. Hence my work of superero- 
gation. 

From my former opinion of the valley of the Drave, I 
have no reason to retract any thing, now that I had an 
opportunity of seeing twelve or fourteen miles of its 
downward course. It is truly a noble valley, ami sur- 
rounded by magnificent mountains, particularly those 
on the right side, whose fantastic yet massive pinnacles 
proclaim them members of that peculiar chain so often 
alluded to. 

At Lienz I was too busy to run much about, and hav- 
ing dispatched the superfluous portion of my luggage to 
Botzen, about four o'clock in the afternoon I pre- 
pared to commence the next episode in my general 
plan of return. I was induced to do this without any 
unnecessary delay for several reasons — first, because I 
knew that if my return to Switzerland was to be speedy, 
dispatch must be employed in the various turns and 
windings which diversified it : then the weather was an 
important object, and I thought I perceived that the 



1SLBERG. 255 

present favourable state was not to be neglected. After 
re-crossing the bridge, and retracing my steps for some 
distance down the valley, I took a footway which led 
me much more agreeably forward, and nearer to the foot 
of the mountains, till I crossed the torrent descending 
from the Dewanthal. I then began a steep and stony 
ascent through the lower and cultivated portion of the 
mountains on the north side of the vale in the first 
instance, and then through the forests, till I gained the 
alpine pastures and corn fields that surround the hamlet 
of Islberg. At this time, the clouds which had been 
gathering and floating about the mountains since noon, 
had assembled in a great body over the heights, 
separating the valley of the Isl and that of the Upper 
Drave, both opening just above Lienz ; and while the 
declining sun shot from under their layers a bright flood 
of light upon the town and the depth of the vale, they 
cast upon the surrounding mountains, and particularly 
the gigantic chain to the southward, a mass of deep 
shade, so profound and so blue, that I thought I had 
rarely seen a picture of such a singularly awful descrip- 
tion. To add to the general and uncommon effect, the 
sky beyond the ragged and towering pinnacles opposite 
was charged with a number of brilliantly illuminated 
thunder clouds, passing off towards the valley of the 
Gail. My view into the deep and sequestered vale of 
Dbllach, when having traversed the head of the forested 
ridge, I came upon the brink of the descent into it, 
was of much the same description, though, perhaps, 
yet more awfully solemn, as the absence of the sun- 
beams, and the descending shades of evening were 
added to the general effect produced by a curtain 



256 WINKELN. 

of gathering thunder- clouds floating in the atmosphere 
over a narrow valley, into whose depths the surround- 
ing mountains descended with very precipitous and 
darkly forested slopes. 

Just at the point where my footway from the vale 
of the Drave falls upon it, the valley of Dbllach or the 
Mblthal, forms an angle, and in this angle, as the name 
denotes, lies the village of Winkeln, which I had 
fixed upon as my night quarters. My descent to it 
was rapid, and soon terminated, as the village itself lies 
at a considerable height upon the mountain-side — a 
beautifully picturesque spot, with a taper spire on its 
white church, and comfortable looking cottages. As 
to the inn, which was, as usual, the best and largest 
house in the village, I can speak to its unlooked-for 
excellences. With the morning's light, I had passed 
from a valley of Carniola into Carinthia — had taken 
my noontide repose in a corner of the Tyrol — and was 
now again in a sequestered vale of Carinthia. 

The thunder-clouds did not menace in vain, and 
during the earlier hours of the night, the glare of light- 
ning, loud, echoing thunder, and pattering rain, kept 
my senses a little too busily employed to allow of much 
sleep. With the early morning light, however, all 
these had subsided, and I rose with the pleasant 
feeling that at length I might expect a morning walk, 
enlivened by freshened air and cool roads. How 
long had I been a stranger to them ! I had expe- 
rienced considerable pleasure, a few days^before, upon 
quitting the plains, and entering the mountain defiles 
of the Tagliamento, between Gemona and Venzone ; 
yet neither my satisfaction, nor my partial return to 



THE MOLTHAL. 257 

the class of thoughts and feelings, which are my com- 
panions among mountain scenery, were at that time 
complete, or without alloy. I was in the mountains, it 
is true, but I could not call them the Alps — they had 
neither their scenery nor peculiar character. In the 
gales that blew, welcome as they were, there was still 
a little too much of the sun, and too little of mountain- 
dew and the freshness of alpine pastures. Moreover, 
the peasant, the language, the cottage, and the garden- 
growth in the inclosure around it — all were otherwise. 
But this morning, I may say that I felt I was really 
once more, and to all intents and purposes, in the 
Alps; and they were, indeed, like a home to me, 
though still far distant from that part where my friends 
dwelt. 

By keeping steadily in motion, with the brief ex- 
ception of a halt at Dbllach, I reached the hamlet of 
Bockhagen about 10 a.m. My attention had been 
principally directed to the head of the vale, though I 
had not omitted to remark many an elevated point of 
the surrounding mountains on either side, and many a 
cascade falling from their acclivities, as during my pro- 
gress they came successively within view; yet how, 
and when, and where, the object of my visit would 
present itself, was the principal subject of my curiosity. 
It was shortly after passing the church of the last 
mentioned place, that the Great Glockner made its 
appearance for an instant, through a gap in advanced 
ridges, as I traversed the bed of the Mblbach. 
But after surmounting the next ridge, the view 
towards the head of the vale became quite open ; 
and the church of Heiligen-blut, half up the moun- 

s 



258 HEILIGEN-BLUT. 

tain-side, — the fertile little district in which it rises, — 
the dark hollow with its pine-covered sides and 
tumbling cascade beyond, — the pile of mountains that 
close up the depth of the picture, — and, above all, the 
graceful, snow-white pyramid of the Great Glockner, 
rising above its gigantic glaciers, were fully displayed 
before me. In the immediate foreground, the moun- 
tain-torrent, rolling down the valley, precipitates itself, 
under a rustic wooden bridge, into a deep gulf, 
shaded with aged larch ; and a chalet and fountain are 
not wanting to make a complete picture. This cascade 
is called the Jungfrau- sprung, and falls nearly four 
hundred feet. At the inn at Heiligen-blut I found 
good entertainment, and took up my quarters for 
the remainder of the day, leaving it for the morrow 
to determine what could be done in the way of a 
nearer approach to the principal object of my visit. 
The pen and pencil, and an examination of the im- 
mediate neighbourhood, filled up the time till sunset. 
Towards evening, as usual, flying clouds began to 
gather about the mountain- tops ; however the Glock- 
ner itself remained tolerably free, and presented, 
from every part of the village and eminences above, 
a very noble spectacle. Higher, more imposing, 
and wider spread glaciers I have seen ; but I do not 
recollect one that can compare with it in elegance of 
form. It is the sharpest pyramid, seen from this side, 
that it is possible to imagine ; and though lines of pointed 
rocks obtrude themselves through the snow and ice 
even to the summit, they rather add to the general 
effect, than detract from it. The middle portion of 
the mountain spreads out to a waste of snow, jagged 



THE GREAT GLOCKNER. 259 

with precipices, and displays several roundish summits. 
Of the base we may learn more to-morrow. 

The geographical position of the Great Glockner is 
at the junction of three chains of the higher Alps, 
separating Tyrol, Carinthia, and Salzburg. It belongs 
to the series of the Noric Alps, which commence with 
the Dreyherrn-spitz, at the head of the Vale of the Isl. 
To that point the Rhetian Alps extend. 

The Glockner was first ascended at the commence- 
ment of the present century, if my information is 
correct, by M. Sigismund von Hohenwart, at the 
instigation of the Prince Bishop of Gurk. The former 
gentleman effected several ascents ; and two elevated 
chalets were erected to facilitate subsequent attempts, 
the lower called the Salmshbhe, and the higher the Ad- 
lersruhe. The ordinary manner of proceeding is to go 
and sleep at the Salmshbhe, affecting the ascent to 
the summit, and returning to the same station, in the 
course of the second day. The highest point, — for 
though from Heiligen-blut the mountain appears to have 
but one, there are in fact two — rises to the height of 
about 12,000 feet above the sea ; and is so sharp that 
four persons can with difficulty stand upon it. The 
horizon commanded by the summit must be a glorious 
one, comprising the Adriatic, the plains of Friuli, the 
Styrian Alps, the Bohemian Forest, the Black Forest, 
and the chains of eastern Switzerland. The geological 
formation of the Glockner is hornblend-slate : gneiss, 
serpentine, and micaceous- slate, with many beautiful 
marbles, abound in the adjoining chains. 

Heiligen-blut may be about four hours' walk from 
its foot. This village, like most of those in this retired 

S 2 



260 HEILIGEN-BLUT. 

vale, is perfectly Swiss in its character with the excep- 
tion of its church, a large tall- spired edifice, built in a 
very tolerable Gothic style, and containing, amongst 
other interior decorations, a stone shrine, five-and-twenty 
feet high, with carved canopy, pinnacle, and other open 
work, that might grace a far larger church. From the 
retired church-yard, there is a charming view of the 
valley below and the surrounding mountains ; and 
from the Kreutzberg, above the village, one still more 
imposing. These two points were my places of prin- 
cipal resort during the evening. There are signs of 
this elevated valley having once been cultivated to a 
far greater extent than at present ; and there exist 
traces of ancient roads in its neighbourhood, leading 
into Salzburg, which are supposed to be Roman. 

This day month I was standing in the vast enclosure 
of the Coliseum, enlightened by the clear full moon, — 
now the same orb is throwing its clear light upon the 
silver snows of the Glockner. What different degrees 
of sublimity ; but this which hovers over the mighty 
edifice of rock and ice, reared by the hand of God, 
must be allowed to have a higher character than that, 
however heightened by circumstance, which dwells 
amidst the most noble edifices of man's creation. 

The following day was one so full of action, that to 
give even a summary of my proceedings during the 
course of it becomes almost a task. 

The absence of the host of Heiligen-blut, Anton 
Pichler, happened very unfortunately for me, as I 
could gain no kind of information from any one in the 
house, with regard to the objects I had in view for the 
occupation of the earlier part of this day. The same un- 



HEILIGEN-BLUT. 261 

certainty prevailed, whether I could engage a peasant 
as guide in my morning's ramble, and I arose without 
knowing exactly what was to be done. I saw the 
sun's first rays enlighten the peak of the Glockner ; and 
it was not till I was upon the point of sallying forth 
alone, in a determination not to let the cool of the morn- 
ing pass away wholly unemployed, that I was joined 
by my proposed guide, the first of his class and 
name ever attached to my person, and I am disposed 
to wish he may be the last. I soon found he was no 
conjuror, and that but little information was to be 
gained from him. Moreover he moved so slowly, that 
we were continually out of sight of one another. His 
qualifications as guide were therefore very questionable. 
However he was poor, and glad to earn his day's hire. 
I forget what his real profession was, but remember, 
that he gave me an account of his family circumstances 
which proved that they were not the most affluent. 
His father dying, had left certain goods and chattels 
to be divided between his children, and Joseph, alias 
Seppele, 1 had come into his fortune, consisting of a pair 
of imperishable chamois leather breeches which seemed 
to have been handed down for an heir loom for some gene- 
rations, — a corner of the paternal cottage, — and a Jew's 
harp, an ancient instrument of music, whose symphonious 
twangings are greatly.appreciated in the vallies of Car- 
inthia. He informed me that among the peasants, many 
were accustomed to play upon two at the same time, and 
this same was afterwards confirmed to me. Our route lay 
up the valley over a very steep break, which forms the 

1 A familiar name both in the Eastern and Western Alps. Josephus, 
Joseph, Josep, Sep, Seppi : and diminutive, Seppele. 



262 THE GLACIER OF THE G. GLOCKNER. 

separation between the cultivated vale, upon whose 
sides stands the church and village of Heiligen-blut, 
and an upper division, consisting of broken ground, 
roughly interspersed with forest, pasture, and rock. 
The mountain-torrent precipitates itself over this de- 
clivity with great fury, and forms a particularly fine 
cascade, over which, as we passed, a bright rain- 
bow was hovering in the sunbeams. In the midst of 
the pines and broken rock in this higher division, stands 
the chapel where the holy blood of Saint Briccius was 
found. To add to my information, I got my guide to 
relate the edifying story : but Seppele was really unin- 
telligible in parts of his tale ; for, besides speaking a 
horrible dialect, he kept his short pipe between his 
teeth during his narrative, and spoke now out of one 
corner of his mouth, and then out of the other, in such 
a capricious manner, that I am afraid I lost the better 
half ; and I will not venture to retail what I did glean 
from his discourse. We made pretty good progress, 
and at the end of the second hour were in full view of 
the great glacier which descends towards the valley of 
Heiligen-blut from the S.E. base of the mountain. To 
get a really advantageous view of the whole scene, it 
was now resolved to turn off to the right, and bend our 
steps towards a rocky and very high mountain called 
the Gems-thurm, which bounds the glacier to the 
eastward, and rises directly opposite the Glockner 
itself. To effect this, we had to climb the mountain 
side upon which we then were, to a considerable height ; 
descend into a deep valley over a line of pastures, and 
thence recommence the main ascent, which was not 
directed to the summit, (that lying far out of the reach 



THE GLACIER OF THE G. GLOCKNER. 263 

of my time and present purpose) but to a certain point 
upon his rocky and precipitous flank which promised to 
afford a commanding view, and whence we might hope 
to descend with comparative facility upon the Glacier. 
After the lapse of about an hour and a half, this was 
accomplished, and we were now seated at some consi- 
derable elevation above that apparently flat surface of 
frozen snow, round whose edges rose the different 
portions of the middle region of the mountain. The 
upper portion of the glacier presented a swelling ele- 
vation completely covered with snow ; while from the 
opposite edge, rose the precipitous and intermingled 
mass of rock, earthy slope, ice, and snow, that seemed 
to support the main and stately pyramid of the highest 
summit. The latter now lost that beautiful simple form 
that it had worn when seen from Heiligen-blut, and 
appeared split into two separate cones, still remaining 
however, singularly pointed and finely outlined. Of its 
vastness, and the magnitude of the various objects 
covered with the uniform and dazzling mantle, the eye 
can take very little cognizance, unless some object come 
fortuitously in the way to lend it a little assistance. I 
was at first enabled in some measure to do this, from 
the circumstance of a chamois-hunter being descried 
towards the upper end of the basin of ice above which 
we sat, traversing it towards us, a speck and but a 
speck, continually hidden beneath inequalities on the 
surface, which to us were quite imperceptible. A fur- 
ther and more convincing proof of this was added, 
when descending to the edge of the ice, we ourselves 
began to bend our steps directly for the opposite side. 
I had indeed noticed that the lower portion of the gla- 



264 THE GLACIER OF THE G. GLOCKN ER. 

cier, where it began to bend down towards the valley, 
was rent and broken into fissures, and that still lower 
the ice seemed quite broken up ; but we were at a much 
greater elevation, and it seemed that we should cross it 
with but little trouble. Yet, during the three quarters 
of an hour's time which the passage cost us, many were 
the turns, bends, and the leaps in which I had to follow 
my guide. It may be believed I allowed him to lead 
in this instance. I cannot say that I just fancied some 
of the blue rifts, running down no one knows how deep, 
over which I had to venture myself ; nor the boiling 
sound of hidden waters which regaled the ear when- 
ever it had time to listen ; nor the ugly slopes leading 
down into the yawning abyss over which you must con- 
trive to stride without slipping ; nor even the vast accu- 
mulation of earth, rock, and pebble, that spread an 
uneven and unsightly mantle over a large extent of the 
glacier near the foot of the Glockner itself, and which 
only half concealed the fissures which they had in vain 
attempted to fill up and level. Nor, when once more 
on terra-firma, under the precipices of the Glock- 
ner, did I just fancy certain impending walls of very 
fragile looking ice, which at the same time that they 
gave a good idea of the vastness of the fields spread over 
the slopes, seemed to say, * down we come, if not to-day, 
at least to-morrow ; the ice behind pushes us forward, 
and down we must !' And they were in the right ; for 
we were not very far up the side of the mountain 
beyond the slopes, when with a burst of thunder, down 
two immense portions did come, crashing and echoing 
upon the glacier below. We now kept forward, de- 
scending, but, keeping about the same height above 



THE GLACIER OF THE G. GLOCKNER. 265 

the glacier, which was also bending down towards the 
valley. I own I was surprised when I came to that 
portion where the descent was most rapid, to see the 
vast breadth of the fissures, and the size and height of 
the grotesque pyramids and spires of the disruptured 
portions, many certainly forty and fifty feet high. One 
of the loftiest of them was gracious enough to burst 
into a thousand pieces before my eyes ; and besides, 
there were crackings and intonations enough in other 
portions more remote, to satisfy my curiosity. Surely 
these glaciers are among the greatest wonders of a world 
of wonders ; and I look upon them as I gaze upon the 
wide-spread ocean, as belonging to those created things 
which man is indeed permitted to look upon, but 
not into. Who can fathom their abyss, calculate at 
what time their foundations were laid upon the rocks, 
or how long they have been moving downward towards 
the green vallies beneath ! 

My object, now that we had arrived at the lower ter- 
mination of the glaciers, was to keep rather on the 
mountain-side to the westward, and thus preserve the 
advantage my long climbing had given me, instead of 
descending into the highest portion of the valley of 
Heiligen-blut, to get into the usual route or path-way 
across the mountains towards the valley of St. Rupert ; 
my guide promising in this manner to bring me into the 
same, at a tolerably high elevation, and save me much 
extra exertion. Yet had I previously known what 
species of ground I should be obliged to pass, I think 
I should have preferred the usual road, circuitous as it 
was. By passing over a very steep acclivity, we gained 
the corner of the mountain to the south of the Glockner, 



266 THE GLACIER OF THE G. GLOCKNER. 

commanding from a singularly propitious position, the 
greater portion of the vale of Heiligen-blut at a great 
depth below us : and the whole of the opposite chain of 
the Thauner and Rbthkopf on the frontiers of Salzburg 
and Illyria. They are fine, but none among them have 
any pretension to vie with the Glockner. More imme- 
diately at our feet, as we turned the angle, was the ravine 
of the Katzensteig between us and the nearest moun- 
tain to the south. To descend into this was our object, 
as, at its head lay the ridge I must traverse in going to 
St. Rupert. But to do this, it was necessary to keep 
a sloping direction over the flank of the mountain for a 
couple of miles, across certain elevated pastures which 
rose from the edge of a line of high precipices ; and 
had themselves so slight a deviation from the perpen- 
dicular, comparatively speaking, that I soon found my 
position one of no ordinary peril. The short slippery 
grass gave but insecure footing : and I was only made 
aware of my danger, when slipping accidentally, I found 
that without the prompt use of my alp-pole, I should 
have shot downward with accelerating motion for some 
hundred yards, and gone down sheer over the pre- 
cipices : as it was, I descended further and more 
rapidly than I liked : and it was not without anxiety 
I saw the danger increase for some time, instead of di- 
minish. Three several times I came unavoidably upon 
my side, and was only saved by the hook of my pole in 
two instances, and the hand of a bare-footed peasant, 
mowing on the alp, in the other. My guide was 
anxious enough, but too insecure on his own legs for 
me to put great trust in him. At length the soil be- 
came more stony and of course safe — and we descended 



PASS TO ST. RUPERT. 267 

gradually to the ravine in question. My danger made 
more impression upon me after it was passed, than 
at the time ; for I was too busy with the momen- 
tary exertions required, to have much time for reflec- 
tion at the moment ; and I bless God for preserving me 
from such a fearful downward leap as that which I was 
so near taking. I now dismissed Seppele, having first 
made experience, that the peasantry of Heiligen-blut 
are commencing in their turn to feel the influence of 
the occasional appearance of strangers in the valley, 
and will shortly be as voracious as the best guides in 
the world; and then began to press forward towards 
the high ridge which still reared itself at many miles' 
distance between me, and the long descent to the vale 
towards which I looked for refreshment and shelter. 
The directions given me were simple, and therefore 
agreeable to follow. I was to trace the torrent 
rolling down the ravine to its junction with another 
tributary stream ; then cross it and follow that flowing 
from the right to its junction with another from my 
left, which was to lead me, by going to its head, 
to the foot of the ridge I must finally traverse. 
My course to the first point of junction was rapid 
enough — now came the most important operation, 
the crossing. I scrambled down to the margin through 
a number of huge fragments of rock, and after looking 
up and down the stream in vain search after a bridge 
of ordinary construction, my attention was arrested by 
a thin whitish line which appeared to cross the torrent, 
at a point where its volume was compressed between 
the rocks to a whirling gulph of boiling water and foam ; 
and this I found was the bridge to which I had been 



268 PASS TO ST. RUPERT. 

directed. It consisted of two thin square slips of 
wood, placed side by side, but in their conjoined breadth 
not measuring- more than six or eight inches, and ex- 
tending from one slippery and uneven surface of broken 
rock, to the other, without fastening of any kind. 
When the foot was placed upon one end, they 
rocked and separated. I have passed many a slippery 
and awkward tree trunk, placed where none but the 
goat and the goat-herd are accustomed to traverse, but 
this was too hazardous, and the certainty of a plunge, 
and of consequent destruction so great, that I dared 
not attempt it. I never shun a wade, but here the 
attempt would have been attended by equally fatal con- 
sequences. I hastily made my way up the margin for 
full a couple of miles, but found no place where to 
assay the passage would not have been madness. The 
rocky bed was steeply inclined ; the torrent rushed 
on with the same fury, and after lingering for some 
time in one place where the whole stream was com- 
pressed into a fearful ' strid,' so narrow, that I slung my 
knapsack and part of my apparel across it, yet so wide, 
that I shunned the desperate spring: and moreover 
having been once nearly carried away in a spot 
I attempted to wade, I found that I must retrace 
my steps towards the lower vallies, in doubt where and 
how I should eventually effect a passage. About 
three miles lower down, a shepherd at length pointed 
out to me a crossing similar to the first mentioned, as 
far as the rudeness of the construction and the dreadful 
under rush of the torrent went, but happily with that 
single difference, that the ends of the poles were fixed ; 
and here I crossed without hesitation. So much 



PASS TO ST. RUPERT. 269 

time had been lost by the intervention of this unex- 
pected difficulty, that I had now barely sufficient day- 
light remaining- to bring me over the high and rugged 
mountains, whose ridge still interposed between me 
and the valley of St. Rupert, from which I was told I 
was still fifteen miles distant. I had been upon my legs 
without nourishment since five o'clock in the morning ; 
however my deliverance from the peril which had just 
been passed, acted as a spur, and I turned my face towards 
the sinking sun, and pressed forward with renewed vig- 
our. A steep ascent of upwards of an hour brought me 
within sight of the exact portion of the ridge which I was 
to traverse, and at the same time to a position from 
which I saw the Great Glockner and his neighbours in 
quite a new point of view. It here rose from a glacier 
of no great extent, and appeared split, near the summit, 
into two points, one snowy and the other bare rock. It 
is from this quarter that the ascent is practicable ; and a 
quick eye may descry one, if not both, of the huts before 
mentioned. The adjoining mountains presented, from 
this side, immense solid masses of fawn-coloured rock, 
scarcely furrowed by rent of any kind, and altogether 
unenlivened by herbage. The different formation of the 
Glockner itself from that of the neighbouring mountains 
was very evident from the colour and form of its rocks. 
My further advance, to the westward declivity of 
the ridge, gave me a view of a far more extended and 
noble character — by which no disrespect is intended 
to the Great Glockner ; — and, I may add, the first widely 
extended prospect I had obtained upon the mountains 
of Tyrol. The long defile of the Bergerbach, which I 
had to descend in my further progress to the vale of 



270 ST. RUPERT. 

St. Rupert, now opened below me, giving me a 
glimpse of the church of the same name, at its ter- 
mination, and of some small portion of the surrounding 
village, though at many miles distance. Over this, 
and the flanks of the many mountains sloping down 
into it, rose first the range separating the Rupertithal 
from that of Windish Mattray, and, pre-eminent in the 
latter, a broad pyramidal mountain exactly opposite. 
Then, an horizon upon which range upon range, and 
mountain upon mountain were heaped, from the compa- 
ratively approximate glaciers at the head of the Taufers 
and Islthals, to those far beyond the Brenner. If I 
am not deceived, I descried the Great Ortler also. A 
storm gathering in the westward, cast an ominous and 
deep blue tint over the greater portion of these chains, 
and warned me, after brief repose, to commence my 
descent. A couple of hours were found sufficient to 
accomplish this ; and passing through the usual maze of 
pasture and forest, I reached St. Rupert about sunset. 
A very homely lodging, in which little or nothing could 
be had as refreshment, afforded me a night's shelter. 
I am afraid I can hardly recommend sheep's ribs, 
dried in the sun, which was all I could get for supper, 
for I did not find it very strengthening. Before quitting 
the neighbourhood of the Glockner, I may mention 
that the botanist will hardly find a corner of the Alps 
more richly stored with alpine plants, and there are 
several of very great rarity which are found here. 

I was early in motion, directing my course towards 
the mountains to the west, which separate this 
valley from that of Windish Mattray. The ridge, 
the passage of which formed my morning's business, 



WINDISH MATTRAY. 271 

is of but moderate elevation, and entirely covered 
with pasture land; yet the absence of a track, in 
many parts, made it more difficult than I had anti- 
cipated. From the height, however, the view on both 
sides recompensed all trouble. 

The descent to Windish Mattray is very fine, and 
indeed I may say that the passage of the two ridges 
which have just been sketched, presents some of the 
most noble and imposing mountain scenery I have seen 
in any portion of the Alps. Though it must be allowed 
that the mountains in the central chain do not gener- 
ally present an equally imposing appearance with those 
in Switzerland, it appears to me that the secondary 
ranges are more diversified, and of at least equal 
height. 

The pretty town of Windish Mattray stands near 
the junction of the Thaunerbach, flowing from the north- 
ward, with the Isl, which here emerges from a long and 
picturesque vale, descending from the foot of some 
of the highest glaciers in the Rhetian and Noric Alps. 
The Weissenstein, a castle of considerable extent, 
stands upon a knoll a little to the north of the town. 
A change in the weather had taken place, and the 
clouds, which I had watched from the ridge above, 
gathering among the higher mountains and glaciers, 
now began to descend the vallies with heavy rain and 
thunder. The appearance of the heavens, the fall of 
the barometer, and other considerations, effected a 
change in my original plan, which was to trace 
the Isl to its source under the Dreyherrn-spitz ; then 
to cross the intervening ridges into the valley of 
Taufers, by descending which, I should arrive in course 



272 THE ISLTHAL. 

of time at Brunecken. Now I was contented to 
resign this, and betake myself to the nearer passage 
to the same town afforded by the vales of Teferecken 
and Antholz, of melancholy memory. I still hoped to 
gain the entrance of the former in spite of the violent 
rain, before nightfall. 

A temporary cessation of the storm encouraged me to 
set off about three o'clock ; and though often threatened 
with its renewal and hearing the thunder rolling in the 
mountains on every side, I was so far fortunate as to 
reach the bridge over the Isl, and commence my ascent 
into the vale opening to the right, before any serious im- 
pediment was thrown in my way. I could not however 
avoid being struck by the dismal and boding appear- 
ance of the whole scene, as I commenced a second 
entry into this forbidding district, in which my former 
ill fortune had, at a former period, caused me to be 
for a while incarcerated. The smiling cultivation 
which surrounds Windish Mattray does not spread to 
any great distance from the village ; for, a few miles 
below, the vale of the Isl narrows, and the pine forest 
clothing the heights and declivities of the mountain, 
obtrudes itself in wide patches into the very bosom of 
the valley, and in many places even clothes the borders 
of the river, and the heaps of sand and pebble with 
which its bed is strewed. The air was thick and 
heavy, and the sky of a blackness to which I had long 
been a stranger. The river swept down with a dis- 
coloured stream, hurrying along with it a damp blueish 
mist, portions of which were seen rising in ragged, 
shapeless threads from its bed, and floating towards the 
mountains. 



HOPFGARTEN. 273 

I had withal but just time to gain the first house on 
the ascent into the entrance of the Tefereckenthal, 
and take shelter under its spreading roof, when an 
overpowering deluge of rain descended from the 
thunder-clouds resting on the mountain above. Half 
an hour's patience and rest, gave me further courage 
to get forward, and by dint of exertion I contrived 
to reach my proposed night quarters in the village of 
Hopfgarten, before the return of the storm, which 
then recommenced and raged without cessation for the 
following sixteen hours. The lower end of this valley 
is by far the most interesting portion, and presents a 
fine gloomy scene of alpine devastation. The torrent 
flows in a very deep and compressed bed, and the forest, 
through which you pass for the last two miles before 
reaching Hopfgarten, is rendered very picturesque by 
the quantity of immense boulder-stones, many of them 
very curious in a geological point of view, that lie among 
the trees. 

Instead of the bright sun to which I had been so 
long accustomed, thunder, lightning, and rain descend- 
ing in torrents, awoke me at an early hour. It was 
rather a singular circumstance, that since nine weeks 
before, when the weather had interposed an obstacle 
to my progress in this valley, I had seen no rain be- 
yond that accompanying a brief thunder- storm; and 
that here again, I should meet with the same ill fortune. 
However I was at no loss for employment, and the 
morning passed quickly away ; affording it is true but 
faint indications of even a partial cessation in the tem- 
pest Yet I did not doubt but I should find means to 
get forward to my old prison, St. Jacobs, three leagues 

T 



274 THE VALE OF TEFERECKEN. 

up the valley ; and, in spite of the bad augury of all 
around me, I pertinaciously continued to prophecy a 
change for one o'clock p. m. Nor, as it happened, was 
I mistaken, as exactly at that hour the rain ceased, and 
I instantly quitted my homely but comfortable little 
inn. The weather overhead had, it is true, ceased to 
be an obstacle to my advance, but I found a much more 
formidable one threatening to put a stop to it, in the 
river rolling down the valley. This alpine stream, 
swollen to a foaming yellow torrent, by the violent 
rains, had, in most places, risen above its banks, and 
the pathway was here and there buried under its 
current. This entailed a good deal of climbing, leap- 
ing, and scrambling, which I had not counted upon, as 
I had continually to betake myself to the forested 
acclivity at its side, or to the pastures, to make good my 
progress. The sounds that accompanied the flood in its 
downward passage, as it carried along with it trees and 
rocks, I can compare to nothing more descriptive than 
to those which assail the ear while standing in a great 
iron foundery, where the rush of the great blastpipe 
accompanies the stroke of the many hammers ; for to 
the latter sound the incessant clash and shock of the 
stones and rocks rolling against one another under the 
surface, can alone be compared. The narrow gorge 
into which the river plunges below the village of St. 
Vitus, was a scene of tremendous confusion, and T 
deemed myself fortunate in finding that the pathway, 
constructed chiefly of timber, was yet entire. Just at 
the entrance of the same, a torrent of mud had descended 
from the mountains, and formed an embanked fosse of 
a depth which entirely cut off all communication by 



ST. JACOBS. 275 

car or horseback with the upper part of the valley ; 
and swift, and light, and cunning was the footstep with 
which it had to be passed. These obstacles prevented 
my gaining St. Jacobs in less than the prescribed three 
hours. I was however favoured by the weather, and 
even had the unexpected advantage of seeing the 
upper portion of the vale in sunshine ; when I almost 
repented of having formerly condemned it as a corner 
of the earth without any beauty whatever. But the 
light of the blessed sun would make the nether world 
itself interesting. 

Sitting in nearly the same spot, occupied in just the 
same manner, accompanied by the very same little 
black pug dog, I saw, on entering my inn, a certain 
little neatly dressed man whom I encountered on 
my last dolorous entry. During the course of that 
evening, he had taken leave and re-entered again, as if 
impelled by some irresistible attraction at least two or 
three times ; and I was now an amused observer of the 
same kind of conduct. He was not without an air of 
some little self-importance, and something was to be 
gathered from his conversation, though if he were 
learned, he withheld any exposure of it in mercy to 
his auditory. What was he ? thought I. What his pro- 
fession or titles might be, I could not guess ; nor what 
brought him so frequently to the inn. Perhaps he had 
no wife ; or perchance he had a bad one. It appeared 
to me that he was one of those in whose bosoms there 
is a constant struggle between principle and appetite : 
but what am I saying — I just find out that my little 
man is, the priest of St. Jacobs. 



T 2 



CHAPTER VIII. 



' I entered where a key unlocks a kingdom ; 

The mountains closing, and the road, the river 

Filling the narrow pass. There, till a ray 

Glanc'd through my lattice, and the household stir 

Warn'd me to rise, to rise and to depart, 

* * * * • I slept, 

And in my dreams wandered once more, well-pleased.' 



The sighing of the wind and the rush of the torrent 
down the valley which broke upon my ear on awaken- 
ing in the course of the night, augured but badly for 
the early prosecution of my meditated journey. With 
these however, mingled a sound of a character so 
strange, so boding and so bewildering, that I am at a 
loss in what manner to convey in words the precise 
idea, which it produced upon my mind at the time, or 
left upon it, for no inconsiderable number of hours, 
afterward. That the being that produced it was borne 
upon wings I felt certain, from the velocity with which 
the scream, or yell, or laugh, — for it seemed to me to 
resemble all three, — passed from the neighbourhood of 
the house in which I lay, to a distance. One moment 
it rung in my ears as though close to my window, and 
the next came rushing on the wind from the depth of 
the valley. I thought of the cry of the female owl, but 
it did not resemble that ; or the scream of the eagle, 



ANTHOLZ. 277 

but it had no affinity to that either. There was some- 
thing resembling utterance in the sound that bewildered 
me. I never heard the supernatural scream of the 
Irish Banshie, and do not know that I shall ever have 
the honour ; but it can hardly be more awful than the 
sound just alluded to. What it was I do not pretend 
to say, but I am not the less certain that I was wide 
awake. The landlady seemed loth to give any explan- 
ation ; and perhaps some will not be disinclined to 
argue that in a country where the down-fallen castles 
of old days are so frequent, it would not be surprising if 
there were Banshies also. Be that as it may, I must leave 
the matter in doubt. The lazy dawn came slowly down 
upon the vale, and gave me a dismal view of heavy 
mists hanging down almost to the mountain's base, 
affording but faint hopes of a permament change for 
the better. The view without was in truth so dreary, 
that I almost involuntarily betook myself to repose 
again ; — yet, I can hardly say how, just as I was about 
to yield and shut my eyes, I started up again by one of 
those sudden impulses which I am accustomed to feel 
and to obey, and instantly resolved to commence the 
passage of the ridge which still interposed between me 
and the southern vallies. This run of five leagues, 
between St. Jacobs and the village of Antholz, in 
the valley of that name, was rapidly performed in 
about four hours' time, and though the passage was, 
from the heavy weather, gloomy and dispiriting, I 
was not indifferent to the degree of favour shown me 
in being able to accomplish it without rain. Barely 
however, for I had not been housed two minutes 
in the latter village, before the tempest which I had 



278 ANTHOLZ. 

seen impending during- the greater part of my descent, 
burst with a fury which equalled that of the preceding 
day's storm. Four hours of cold deluging rain followed, 
and when about one o'clock I took advantage of a tem- 
porary cessation to continue my journey, and looked 
back to the head of the valley and the ridges I had 
crossed, I saw them whitened with snow and sleet. I 
may well account myself fortunate in having obeyed the 
impulse to leave St. Jacobs at the moment I did, and 
bless God for my escape from the fury of that storm. 
But in getting forward with my memoranda so rapidly, 
I have omitted some observations I had still to make 
upon my second passage of these mountains and the 
vallies which they separate. The Tefereckenthal still 
remains a puzzle to me. The strange garb and stature 
of its inhabitants has found no parallel in my rambles in 
this country, and yet on all sides they are surrounded, 
and in connexion with some of the finest races inhabit- 
ing the Alps. I find that there is a considerable 
quantity of carpeting woven within its precincts, for 
exportation. The mountains at its head must be of 
great elevation, so much I can say from the glimpses 
I had of their snowy flanks, and the glaciers lying in 
the hollows ; yet it will be readily inferred that I was 
no wiser with respect to their forms and precise po- 
sition after my second visit than after the first ; and 
I regret it, for they cannot be of a common char- 
acter. The situation and aspect of the lake at the 
head of the vale of Antholz are truly romantic. The 
waters were high, and I had considerable difficulty in 
scrambling over the pathway that runs along its edge. 
A broad stratum of mud, that had rolled down from the 



ANTHOLZ. 279 

mountains towards its lower extremity formed a still 
greater obstacle, — however, not an insuperable one. 
What an advantage it is to feel, that here no indelible dis- 
grace will follow your entry into the habitations of men 
with stained and soiled garments ! Soon after I was 
housed at the little village of Antholz as just related, 
the cessation of the mass, and commencement of the 
storm, drove into the same shelter a dense crowd of the 
devout peasantry of both sexes ; and as the greater por- 
tion had to remain stationary for some hours in conse- 
quence of its continuance, I had good opportunity of 
observation, and fancy I have not looked out of my 
corner in vain. I am sorry that truth constrains me to 
say, that in praising the stature and bearing of the pea 
santry, I must as usual allude only to the males. The 
stumpy, bossy, and awkward figure of the females 
arises chiefly, I presume, from the severe labour to 
which they are subjected in the cultivated grounds, and 
which is evidently too great for their strength. 

The costumes in this part of the country are pic- 
turesque. The yellow hats of the men having a 
very imposing breadth of brim, and a very broad 
edging of green ribbon. But I have spoken so often 
slightingly of the outward appearance of the fair 
sex in the Tyrol, that my conscience misgives me, 
and I must strive to find a topic upon which I can 
do them equal, but at the same time, more flatter- 
ing justice : and such is not wanting. I might speak 
of their being in general good wives and mothers, qua- 
lities which no one will be inclined to undervalue ; but 
I may also add that their character for patriotism and 
bravery has been too singularly distinguished to permit 



280 ANTHOLZ. 

my passing* it over in silence. In the late wars, they 
were not only ever ready to aid their husbands, and 
children, and brothers, where woman's asistance might 
be ordinarily expected and useful, in tending the 
wounded, collecting provisions and bringing them into 
the field, or even in preparing and guiding the stones, 
rocks, and trees hurled from the precipices, but when 
the danger was imminent, many were seen fighting- in 
the ranks, and exposed to the hottest fire. Many 
individual instances of this cool and determinate valour 
in defence of their country might be brought forward. 
But an occurrence that took place in the vale of 
Taufers, to the west of that in which we now are, 
is too singular to be passed over. In this large and 
populous valley, towards the close of the war,, when the 
whole male population was forced to absent itself, and 
repair to main points of danger, the women formed 
themselves into four regular companies, and instituted 
regular patroles and sentinals, Seven hundred Saxons, 
taken in the battles in August, were detained as pri- 
soners in this part of the country. Taking advantage 
of a favourable moment, these men found means to 
escape, and dived into the recesses of the mountains at 
the head of the valley. The alarm was, however, given 
and the women set off in pursuit, armed with hay forks, 
clubs and muskets. They traced the Saxons for thirty 
miles up the Alps, and at length intercepted them upon 
the glacier of the Krimmler-Thauren, and resolutely 
forced them to turn back to the place whence they had 
fled. During the course of the war of 1809 many 
ladies of superior rank vied with these rustic heroines in 
devotion to their country. Pre-eminent amongst these 



THE PUSTERTHAL. 281 

was the Baroness Sternbach. In the month of May 
this noble and high-minded lady had sold her numerous 
herds of cattle to enable the Austrian officers in the 
Innthal to pay their men ; and never ceased to stimu- 
late the peasantry not to forsake their own cause. Both 
in the moment of success and of defeat, she approved 
herself worthy of the land of her ancestors. 

Upon the second irruption of the enemy into the 
country after the truce of Znaim, she was seized by the 
orders of the Duke of Dantzic at her castle of Miihlau, 
and conveyed to Inspruck by a party of French gens 
d'armes. Thence, about the middle of August in 
company with two aged Tyrolese noblemen, she was 
transported to Munich, and finally to Strasburg. During 
a prolonged and shameful captivity, exposed to the 
most unworthy treatment, threatened, taunted, and 
often deprived of the necessaries of life, she could never 
be brought to express herself in a manner unworthy of 
her rank and the cause of her country. 

My descent to the lower hamlet of Antholz, and thence 
by way of Nieder-Rasen into the broader valley of the 
Rienz was adventureless. Some mineral springs not far 
from the first mentioned spot are celebrated for the effi- 
cacy of their waters in some peculiar cases of human infir- 
mity. The rain came on again, as the day advanced, if not 
with its former violence, with sufficient to render travel- 
ling disagreeable ; and I found myself about three o'clock 
advancing doggedly, in no very enviable plight, over the 
miry high road leading down the valley of the Pusther- 
thal towards Brunecken. The multitude of cattle and 
knots of peasantry repairing to the great fair at the town 
just mentioned, did not render the walk more amusing, 



282 THE PUSTERTHAL. 

for the former seemed depressed by the heaviness of 
the road, and the latter out of temper by the unfavour- 
able weather which tarnished the glories of their holiday 
attire. Yet one circumstance had the power of pro- 
ducing a fit of light-mindedness when I was least 
prepared for it : and in alluding to it, I feel called upon 
to perpetuate the memory of several incidents of a like 
nature. However their Swiss neighbours may be accus- 
tomed to see the hunter after the picturesque swarming 
over his country, the Tyrolese is by no means suffi- 
ciently familiar with this phenomenon to guess the 
occupation of such a being; and in many instances I 
have found myself to be the subject of most amusing 
though humiliating conjecture. Take for example — in 
Botzen, I was most unceremoniously taken for a jour- 
neyman-shoemaker, because in the hearing of one of 
that craft, I happened to inquire after the best shoe- 
maker in the town ; and unusual eagerness was evinced 
to engage me, as my length of arms and short neck pro- 
mised well for a tight jerk. Think of that, my courteous 
reader ! ' Are you a blacksmith ? ' said a good woman to 
me at Tamao, looking at the dark colour of my coat, and 
the hook at the end of my Alpenstock. In Italy I was 
supposed to be on pilgrimage ; in many places to be an 
engineer and surveyor; in north Tyrol was often address- 
ed, ' Are you a miner ? ' In Illyria I was supposed to be 
a * Kraut sucker, 3 or culler of simples. But the conversa- 
tion I overheard upon the route we are now travelling did 
me still greater honour. ' What sort of a chap is that?' 
said one peasant to another, looking sideways at me as 
I pioneered my way through their drove of cattle. 'The 
Madonna alone knows !' said the second : but instantly 



ST. LORENZEN. 283 

added, his memory giving him unexpected light, 'Hah, 
I have seen that fellow before now at the fair at Lienz. 
He plays excellently with his long staff, balancing it 
upon his finger and foot ! ' ' Yes,' added a third, ' and 
on his nose too : — I have also seen him.' ' In verity,' 
thought I, — as chuckling with diversion I made the best 
of my way forward, — ' this is worse than all ! shoemaker 
and blacksmith were bad enough, but now I am taken 
for a jack-pudding and a conjuror, and here are people 
ready to swear they saw me play the devil at a fair ! ' 

At Brunecken I found the whole town and neigh- 
bourhood in a bustle and uproar, and all the preparatory 
steps taken for the opening of the afore-mentioned fair 
on the morrow : and passing swiftly through the press 
which occupied the interval between two rows of tem- 
porary booths erected on either side of the road, without 
the town ditch, I turned into the pathway leading to my 
old quarters at St. Lorenzen, a couple of miles lower down 
the valley. Brunecken, and its neighbourhood have been 
already sketched. While occupying my nook in the 
common room during the evening, my thoughts were 
withdrawn from the consideration of my plans for the 
morrow, to the bustle reigning in it, and the various 
subjects of conversation around. The business of the fair 
chiefly connected with the sale of the herds, was the topic 
of the elder mountaineers, while the idea of sport 
seemed to engross the minds of the younger peasants. 
The Tyrolese are known to be a light-hearted race, 
fond of hilarity. They are greatly addicted to musical 
sounds however rude ; to dancing, and to games of 
chance. They even pride themselves upon their skill 
in poetry, — as far as rude, pastoral, satirical, and epi- 



284 ST. LORENZEN. 

grammic verse can lay claim to that name. They have 
the character among their neighbours, of being rude to 
excess in their social intercourse, and it appears to me 
that such is the fact ; yet their frank bearing, and real 
kindness of heart outweighed that defect. They are 
extremely fond of teasing one another, and will say the 
most bitter things too in pursuit of this pastime ; yet I 
never remember to have seen blows given in conse- 
quence. Their wine, sour and sharp as it is, seems to 
have the power of washing away all real unkindness. 
It will have been understood, that they are devout in 
their religious observances ; and here the Roman Catho- 
lic religion appears, in spite of its abuses, in an infinitely 
more favourable light from the unaffected devotion of 
its followers, than in infidel Italy. The manners of the 
Tyrolese are not the most pure ; the custom of the 
country winking at considerable licence among the 
unmarried. Justice however obliges me to add, that 
conjugal infidelity is rarely known among them. The 
most influential men among the peasantry have always 
been the innkeepers ; and this is easily understood. 
They are in general men of more enterprizing mind than 
their neighbours ; mostly superior to them in wealth, and 
though without the aid of superior education, possessing 
greater advantages from their constant intercourse 
with men of all classes, both at home, and by attend- 
ance at distant fairs. Such were Hofer, Mayer, Ke- 
menater, and many other of their favourite chiefs. 

The long interval that has elapsed since an occasion 
was afforded me of alluding to the details of the war in 
1809, has not I trust, had the effect of indisposing my 
temporary companion from listening to a continuation of 



ST. LORENZEN. 285 

the detail. When I last turned our remembrance to 
this subject, the Tyrolese were victors for the third time, 
in the eventful year alluded to. At the end of August, 
the enemy, under the command of the Duke of Dant- 
zic, had evacuated the country, and Hofer as chief, 
and Imperial Commandant in the Tyrol, had established 
himself at Inspruck. 

Considering the difficulties by which this singular 
man was surrounded, and his apparent inadequacy 
for the duties of legislation which he was now impera- 
tively called upon to discharge, it is truly wonderful 
to consider how much was effected, as long as tran- 
sient tranquillity, and the absence of disturbances 
from without, allowed him to proceed with his labours 
with little interruption. He partially succeeded in 
restoring the ancient form of government as it had 
existed before the Bavarian innovations. He levied 
such taxes as were absolutely necessary for the con- 
tinuance of the war, re-opened the courts of justice, 
and coined money to some amount. The enthusiastic 
love borne to his person by his countrymen, caused the 
regulations which he saw fit to publish for the general 
good in the name of the Emperor, to be generally 
respected : and during the course of the two following 
months, both the civil and military organization of the 
country were in a measure redeemed from the disorder 
into which the varying fortune of the summer had cast 
them. Many of those chiefs, who had fled from the 
Tyrol with the Austrian regulars, as we have related, 
when at the end of July the affairs of their native coun- 
try seemed desperate, had heard in their places of 
retreat, with mingled joy and shame, of the unhoped 



286 ST. LORENZEN. 

for and brilliant successes of their brethren ; and now 
thirsted to return. Among the number of these were 
Eisensteckken and Sieberer, who made their appear- 
ance at Inspruck on Sept 2&th. as bearers of letters 
from the Emperor, with three thousand ducats, the 
first pecuniary assistance that the court of Austria had 
afforded, and of a gold chain and medal from Francis 
to Andrew Hofer. It was long before the latter could 
be persuaded to see them, so deeply did he feel hurt by 
their having abandoned him in the hour of distress. 
The 4th of October was appointed for a solemn day of 
thanksgiving. The Bishop of Wiltau celebrated High 
Mass in the great Franciscan Church of the Holy 
Cross, theTe Deum was chanted ; and, after the exhor- 
tation, Hofer kneeling at the foot of the mausoleum of 
Maximilian, was decorated by the hand of the prelate, 
with the gift of the Emperor, amidst the tears and acclam- 
ations of a great multitude of the Tyrolese. Many 
anecdotes are upon record with regard to the conduct of 
this patriotic man during this period. He took up his 
abode with his adjutants and attendants at the castle, 
but affected no state, retaining his national costume 
and long black beard, and the rustic simplicity of his 
manners. He was always accessible to his countrymen, 
who continued to address him by the familiar name of 
' Anderl,' and none gave him the title of ' Your Excel- 
lency' but those who desired to ridicule him. He 
lived in the most simple manner, and it is calculated 
that the daily cost of his personal entertainment at 
Inspruck, did not exceed one florin, or fifteen pence 
of our money. Unfeigned and heartfelt devotional 
simplicity seems to have been one of his principal char- 



ST. LORENZEN. 287 

acteristics. Whoever dined with him, was afterwards 
required to join him in his evening- devotion, whatever 
might be the difference of their rank : ' we have eaten 
together,' said he to them, * let us also pray together.' 

In the mean time Speckbacher and the Capuchin 
were still engaged in active warfare. They had entered 
Salzburg with two bodies of their countrymen, to assist 
the inhabitants of that beautiful country, and those of 
Carinthia, to drive out the Bavarians ; and to set on 
foot, in conjunction with them, a systematic plan of 
self-defence. 

Success seemed at first to favour the attempts of 
both these chiefs. Speckbacher defeated the Bavarians 
on the river Saal, and advanced as far as Reichenhall. 
Haspinger on his side took the pass of Lueg, and laid 
the road open to the town of Salzburg. The head of the 
good father seems however to have been a little turned 
with success, and he forwarded to Hofer a plan, to 
which the prudent and sagacious Speckbacher could 
not be brought to attach his sign of approval. This 
was no less a scheme, than that of pushing forward into 
Styria, hoping by the assistance of a levee en masse of 
peasantry in that province, to reach Vienna itself. 
Speckbacher deemed the project too wild to succeed, 
and thought by so doing, they must leave the Tyrolese 
frontiers totally open to the enemy. Hofer wavered 
long in his opinion, and in the end ordered them to 
pursue a middle course which left them in a situation 
of such difficulty, that they were both shortly after 
obliged to retreat with loss. 

Speckbacher was attacked, Oct. 16th, at disadvan- 
tage at Melek, was defeated, lost two hundred of his 



288 ST. LORENZEN. 

bravest followers, including- his little son Anderl, who 
had made the whole of this incursion with his father ; 
he himself was severely wounded, and escaped with the 
greatest difficulty. The enemy now advanced on all 
sideSj and by the 25£/i, were again in possession of 
Inspruck. An ineffectual stand was made on the Isel- 
berg during the first days of November ; but rumours 
of the Peace of Vienna were abroad, and universal 
confusion reigned in consequence amongst the poor for- 
saken Tyrolese and their leaders. 

On the 8th of November, Hofer, having received an 
order from the Archduke John, fully confirming the 
truth of the account ; and a proclamation of Eugene 
Beauharnais, ordering an instant cessation of hos- 
tilities ; consented to lay down his arms ; and, by a 
proclamation, advised his companions throughout Tyrol, 
to do so likewise. While Generals Deroy and Wrede 
entered Northern Tyrol by Kessen and Kufstein, 
General Rusca pushed forward from the valley of the 
Drave into the Pusterthal, so that further resistance 
seemed hopeless : when suddenly a Tyrolese officer 
of the name of Kolb undertook in an evil hour, to 
incite the people to believe that the official report of 
the peace received by Hofer was a forged document, 
that Austria had not forsaken them, and still looked 
for their resistance. This was unfortunately believed, 
not only by the peasantry, but by Hofer himself, and 
a few days after the date of his last proclamation, he 
published another, urging his countrymen to resume 
their arms, and continue the war. The consequence 
of this was, that during the greater part of the 
month of November, the peasants were induced to 



ST. LORENZEN. 289 

maintain an unequal struggle, in which more Tyro- 
lese blood was shed than during the whole war hitherto. 
The Miihlbacher Klause, the open vale of the Eisack 
above Brixen, the Upper- Innthal, and the neighbour- 
hood of Meran were again made the theatre of partial 
but sanguinary combats. We need not enter further 
into the detail. By the middle of December, oppo- 
sition was at an end. The eyes of men had then 
become open to the misery into which the treason of 
Kolb had led them. He and others escaped over the 
mountains into Austria. Some of the leaders in the 
last struggle, had fallen on the field of honour ; none 
more lamented or more gloriously than Peter Thalgu- 
ter : others were captives, and awaiting death for 
having borne arms after the publication of Prince 
Eugene's proclamation. A number of these were shot 
on the 22nd of December, and others at the com- 
mencement of the following year. Among these, the 
brave Peter Mayer, deserves especially to be remem- 
bered. He was made prisoner, and on the 10th of 
February was brought before a French court-martial at 
Botzen. The questions put to him were ; whether he 
had fought at the Miihlbacher Klause, and if at that 
time he was aware of Prince Eugene's proclamation. 
Notwithstanding the prayers of his friends, he scorned 
to deny the truth, and answered both in the affirma- 
tive. He was shot, dying at the age of forty-five, with 
great firmness. His last act was to entreat his 
confessor to convey the expression of his repent- 
ance to the inhabitants of certain communes, upon 
whose dwellings the French had wreaked their ven- 
geance after the battles at the Miihlbacher Klause: 

u 



290 ST. LORENZEN. 

accusing* himself as the cause, and entreating their 
forgiveness. 

That the country was in any degree restored to quiet, 
is in a great measure to be ascribed to the high-minded 
clemency of the French General d' Hilliers, who seems 
to have acted the part of a generous enemy : and to have 
done all that was possible to spread a veil of mercy over 
the lamentable events of the month of November : say- 
ing, * that probably Thalguter, and others that had fallen, 
had misled the peasantry, and that enough blood had 
been shed.' He sent from Meran to Hofer and his 
friend Holzknecht, who were still in arms in the 
Passeyerthal, at the end of November — inviting them to 
come to him, and to accept the terms offered ; pledging 
his word of honour for their safety. Holzknecht 
accepted the offer — visited the General, was kindly 
received, and returned to his village with a safeguard 
for both his own house and that of Hofer. The latter 
again yielded to the spirit of indecision, to which he was 
subject ; he requested three days for deliberation, and 
then suddenly disappeared. Such was the termination of 
the war in the Tyrol. Such were the people who 
to use Hofer's own expression, ' were forgotten in 
the treaty of Vienna.' They fell again under the 
sway of Bavaria — having literally shed their blood, 
and seen their bravest die for nought — for Austria 
was too anxious to cement her new alliance, to avow 
the debt she owed to a handful of devoted men ; or 
to testify just sympathy with them. And although the 
hand of God has since restored her to her rights over 
this heroic nation, she has grudged the payment of that 
debt ; what the Bavarian took by force, she still 



ST. LORENZEN. 291 

withholds by narrow policy. Year after year, she 
changes, what the Tyrolese shed his blood to preserve ; 
and at this very day the Tyrolese peasant holds down his 
head when you speak to him of his past deeds and 
sufferings, and mutters : * The emperor has forgotten 
all that we have suffered, and he takes from us even 
those rights which the Bavarians left us. It was a 
foolish war ! ' The reader may still ask : * What finally 
were the fortunes of Hofer, Speckbacher, and the 
brave Capuchin I ' There is interest in each of their 
stories ; and we will not forget to call them to memory. 



The change of weather had already thwarted two 
of my projects : the one, to follow the Isl to its source, 
and subsequently, to explore the Taufererthal through 
its whole length ; and the other, to obtain a partial 
view of the same valley, by traversing the ridge at 
the head of the Teferecken. There was now every pro- 
bability of a third and more important scheme being 
rendered equally impracticable from the same cause. 

From the very first moment that I got a glimpse of 
the peculiar mountain ranges so often alluded to, as 
occupying the S. E. portion of the Tyrol, I had been 
seized with a vehement desire to penetrate into their 
recesses : yet, up to this moment all my plans to this end 
had been rendered fruitless, by the course of circum- 
stances, and my only remaining chance had been that I 
should find the means of doing so in my progress from 
Brunecken to Botzen. The regular road between these 
towns had already been traversed, an additional reason 
therefore why I should attempt to find another : and 



292 THE GADERTHAL. 

in studying* the detail of my map, I had fixed upon the 
Gaderthal, opening due south from St. Lorenzen, as 
the most proper means of gaining the interior of the 
country. If this succeeded, the Grednerthal would 
conduct me again into the vale of the Eisack : and at 
the expense of a few more leagues, I should be every 
way the gainer. But in clouds and rain, the high road 
must be followed, to the exclusion of more inviting 
projects and the varied route offered by them ; and 
clouds and rain closed the day, — and began the morrow. 
By degrees, I worked myself into an unwilling sur- 
render of my wishes, and having breakfasted about 
six o'clock, set forth from my inn, with no other idea 
than to move doggedly forward in the rain, which 
seemed to threaten to return every minute, towards 
Miihlbach and Brixen. Just before reaching the 
bridge of St. Lorenzen, however, three minutes' walk 
from the village, I could not resist casting another 
look to the opening of the Gaderthal to the southward, 
which I should in another minute be constrained to 
turn my back upon, and was inwardly lamenting the loss 
of my promised enjoyment, when a peculiar appearance 
among the clouds which enveloped the entrance, 
brought me to a sudden halt — Is that really sunshine, 
thought I, that pale green hue which appears at inter- 
vals through their folds, as they shift slowly over the 
mountain side — is that sunshine I — A moment's hesi- 
tation convinced me that it was such ; and my course 
of thought and movement was instantly changed ; both 
got a fresh impulse, with fresh hope I resumed my 
relinquished plan of finding my way over the moun- 
tains ; and when I next drew forth my pen to resume 



THE GADERTHAL. 293 

my memoranda, I was sitting at Botzen, after a two 
days' varied and favoured march, in which I had 
the pleasure of completely succeeding in the main 
object of my adventure. 

The foot- way, immediately after quitting the bridge 
of St. Lorenzen, leads through the fields straight 
under the little isolated acclivity, which elevates the 
ruins of the old castle of Michaelsburg above the sur- 
rounding portions of the scenery ; and then gradually 
rising upon the flank of the hills behind, quits the open 
vale of the Reinz, and enters the Gaderthal. It further 
continues rising and falling among the pastures and mea- 
dows which overhang the narrow valley, and conducts 
the traveller, in about two hours, to the point, where 
a tributary stream, flowing through the high mountain 
valley of St. Ulrich to the eastward, joins the Gader- 
bach. Though the clearing sky had given considerable 
interest to the scenery, hitherto of no very uncom- 
mon description, I had been impatiently pressing for- 
ward to get a glimpse of that chain which was the 
principal object of my curiosity. Some singular sum- 
mits rising in the interior of the country to the west, 
had given me the first intimation that my expectations 
would hardly prove futile, and upon my gaining the 
opening into the vale of St. Ulrich, I saw that they 
were really fulfilled. The head of that valley presents 
a grotesque assemblage of these limestone mountains, 
and upon my arrival at the elevated village of St. 
Leonhard some hours after, I had still better oppor- 
tunity of observing and admiring them. They are 
composed of that species of chrystalline limestone 
which is termed dolomite by geologists, and seem to 



294 THE GADERTHAL. 

have been heaved up from their original level, by the 
formation of the porphyry upon which they rest. They 
for the most part rise perpendicularly from the general 
swelling surface of the country, and present to the eye, 
immense walls of great elevation, tinged with a great 
variety of colours, among which the red predominates. 
Towards their summits they exhibit the most singular 
and varied forms. The barrenness of this apparently 
inaccessible rock is so complete, that no living animal 
is known to exist upon them, and the chamois is a 
stranger to their solitudes. Up to the village of St. 
Leonhards, the Gaderthal remains very narrow, being 
for the most part a mere glen. There, however, the 
country opens, and forms a tract of wide fertile pas- 
tures, lying between two elevated ridges. St. Leon- 
hard is a place of pilgrimage, and a large church is as 
usual indicative of the reputation of the shrine. 

Upon my arrival, I was in very good time and 
humour for some refreshment, but was so grumbled at 
by a viperous old woman, whom I found in the village 
inn, that I thought there was no alternative left me, 
but to go further, with the hope of faring better. 
Accordingly I continued my walk to the next hamlet 
of Stern. In doing so, I left the wider portion of the 
valley through which a footway crosses the mountains 
to Cortina and the Italian frontier, to the left ; and 
followed a branch of the Gaderbach, flowing from 
the opposite direction. Stern, I found to be situated 
at the foot of one of the dolomite ridges ; and, 
after a brief halt, I continued advancing towards 
the head of the valley, passing Colfosco, the last 
hamlet, and climbing the ridge, which separates the 



THE GREDNERTHAL. 295 

Gader from the Grednerthal. This stretches at a 
considerable height between two rival piles of these 
mountains, vieingjwith each other in barrenness and 
grotesque outline. That to the southward must be 
of a very considerable elevation, as large beds of snow 
were interpersed among the pinnacles. The ascent 
was long, but its length was its only difficulty : and a 
steady and persevering march soon brought me to the 
sun-side of the ridge, which I found covered with 
pastures to the very summit, producing grass enough 
to allow of their being mowed. I took my usual twenty 
minutes' repose, in company of two or three good- 
humoured peasants, who were employed in harvesting 
the produce ; and got a very favourable idea of the 
inhabitants of the valley below me, from the good 
sense and kind feelings displayed by them. A stranger 
is a rarity in these mountains. What enjoyment ! — 
what true enjoyment ! rest after toil — a bright sun — 
— delicious air — a clear spring — and glorious scenery. 
A descent followed. A very broken but diversified 
track led me down to a small hamlet, with some fine 
mineral springs. No one will pass this without no- 
ticing the extreme clearness of the beautiful brook 
which flows past it. The pretty village of St. Maria 
followed, situated upon the banks of the torrent which 
takes its course through the savage glen of Wolken- 
stein, opening to the right. I came finally to a halt 
for the evening, at a very rural inn, built near another 
mineral spring, close to the village of St. Christina, 
and not far from the castle of the Fischberg, belonging 
to the family of Wolkenstein. Directly over it, a 
singular pile of dolomite rock soars to a great height. 



296 THE GREDNERTHAL. 

The Grednerthal, into which I had now descended, 
may, in some measure, be compared with the Enga- 
dine : not in its natural scenery, which is much 
more romantic ; but from the humour and wandering 
propensities of its inhabitants, and the handsome 
villages which they erect, when long and patient in- 
dustry in foreign lands has afforded them the means 
of returning in affluence and honour to the banks of 
their native stream. More taste is however shown in 
these structures than in the Engadine. The Gredner- 
thalers are artificers in the wood of the pinus cembra, 
and celebrated for their carved works of every de- 
scription. I met and conversed with few peasants of 
middle age, who had not made the tour of the half 
of Europe, in pursuance of this branch of industry. 

Though the Tyrolese may be said to be unenterprising 
in his agricultural pursuits, and slow to comprehend 
all the capabilities of his native country, he is far from 
being so, in the pursuit of any branch of traffic which 
the custom of the country has rendered familiar to 
him. Thousands of the younger Tyrolese, chiefly 
from particular vallies and districts, are to be found 
scattered through all the countries of Europe, in the 
guise of pedlars. Besides the carved work, which we 
have mentioned as the produce of the Grednerthal, 
lace, gloves, rudely emblazoned pictures, and canary- 
birds, are the principal objects of this foreign traffic. 

My object, in leaving my inn on the following 
morning, was to reach Botzen in the course of this 
day. By taking the Grednerbach for my guide, as 
far as its junction with the Eisack, under the pic- 
turesque rock and castle of the Trotzburg, near 



BOTZEN. 297 

Colman, I should be guilty of making a complete right 
angle, besides having to go over a considerable number 
of leagues already once before measured by my foot- 
steps. I therefore determined to follow a line of route 
still higher up the country, and enter the Eisackthal as 
low down as possible. A foot-way marked upon my 
chart, leaving the valley at the village of St. Ulrich, 
and passing by the elevated villages of Castelruth and 
Vels, appeared likely to suit my purpose. 

Accordingly I proceeded down the vale by an 
irregular road, to the pretty village of St. Ulrich ; 
and then, turning short across the stream, I ascended 
the mountain- side to the left, to the hamlet of Rung- 
gatisch, and thence to the solitary church of St. Michael. 
At this point the view I had enjoyed, for a con- 
siderable time, upon the lower part of the Grednerthal, 
was exchanged for a still more extensive one, over the 
town of Castelruth and the mountains to the west 
of the Eisack. The deep defile in which the latter 
flowed was also distinguishable in the middle ground, 
though no part of the river came any where into view. 
To my left, I had still an immense pile of naked 
limestone mountains, of the class so often alluded 
to of late. Castelruth is a country town of some size, 
with a large church and more than one convent. The 
Monte Calvario affords a very delightful and retired 
promenade. My course from hence to Vels, by a 
route leading me to the base of the mountains in the 
first instance, and then to the edge of the profound 
vale of the Eisack, where Vels is situated, does not 
claim many words. From Vels I descended to the 
river, through a very steep but richly cultivated slope, 



298 MERAN. 

covered with orchards and vineyards ; and from 
thence followed the main route, before described, for 
three leagues, to Botzen, where I arrived at an early 
hour. Here many things demanded a pause of at least 
one day. It should have been a day of rest, but I 
cannot say that it turned out to be so. 

I was again favoured to see Botzen in the finest 
weather, but having given it its full measure of descrip- 
tion on my last visit, shall not detain myself now. The 
return of my Italian feverish symptoms, which I had 
hitherto held at a distance by constant exertion, overtook 
me during this day of ic action ; and when I rose, early 
on the morning of August 12th, I felt so weak, that I 
could hardly walk without staggering. In this state, 
however, I moved slowly forward according to cus- 
tom, striving to stem the indisposition by not yielding 
to it ; and by noon had ascended the wide vale of the 
Adige to the town of Meran, at the distance of six 
leagues from Botzen. Of this course, I can say but 
little, for the remembrance of it is like an uneasy 
dream. The scenery is certainly of no common char- 
acter, the mountains surrounding the level bottom of 
the vale being very high, and for the most part covered 
with brushwood. If the situation of Botzen is im- 
posing, that of Meran is equally so, and still more 
beautifully romantic. It is posted upon the broken 
land at the foot of the hills, round which the Passer- 
bach escapes from the Passeyrthal into the great vale 
of the Adige, which at this point is bent into a right 
angle, and surrounded with a magnificent assemblage 
of mountains. The churches are interesting, and the 
town itself, with its low arcades, has a more rural 



THE PASSEYRTHAL. 299 

appearance than Botzen. I had proposed to move 
further, but prudence forbade a further waste of 
strength. I therefore spent the cool of the evening 
seated upon a little knoll on the hill over the town, 
among the tangled vine and walnut-trees, in calm con- 
templation of the splendid scene around. 

It was not my intention to quit the mouth of the 
Passeyrthal, without making an attempt to visit St. 
Leonhard's, and the dwelling of Hofer in its neigh- 
bourhood. The news of the French revolution in July, 
which had reached me at Botzen, was productive of 
such a restless feeling amongst men of all classes, and 
chiefly among the Austrian officials and police, that I 
deemed it advisable not to delay my return to Swit- 
zerland. Other circumstances combined to put the 
project I had primarily entertained, of passing over 
the glaciers at the head of the Passeyrthal to the Oetz- 
thal, out of the question. 

The sun-beams were gilding the heads of the ma- 
jestic mountains round the vale of the Adige, when, 
escaping through the little gateway at the north-west 
corner of the town, I followed a winding mule-path 
traversing the rocks on the right bank of the Passeyr- 
bach, till it descended into the level bed of the valley. 
The Passeyrthal, I found, in a great measure to re- 
semble the vales on the southern slope of the Alps, 
where the fury of the winter torrent, and the immense 
quantity of rubbish brought down by it, render human 
labour vain, when applied to the levels in the bosom of 
the vale. The slopes are well cultivated, and the 
higher portions of the surrounding mountains present 
charming pastures ; but below, the pathway winds 



300 hofer's cottage. 

among a wilderness of stone, or traverses marshy flats, 
where the alder and the barberry are the sole produc- 
tions of the sandy soil. 

After some hours' walk, I reached the pretty village 
of St. Martin, and thence, in a few miles beyond, 
approached the well-known inn, am Sand, celebrated 
as the dwelling-place of Hofer, and still inhabited by 
his widow. 

Hofer's cottage takes its name from its position on 
the edge of a track of barren sand and pebble, de- 
posited by the waters of the Passeyrbach a little below 
St. Leonhards. In the vicinity of this village, the 
main valley divides into two glens, that to the eastward 
leading to the ridges of the Jaufen, over which a fre- 
quented mule-track leads to the vale of the Eisack, 
near Sterzing ; and the westernmost dives, for yet many 
leagues, into the bosom of that mass of glaciers, which 
rise in this part of the Rhetian chain. A devious 
and dangerous track over fields of snow and ice, 
enables the adventurer to reach the head of the Oetz- 
thal. The form of the mountains immediately sur- 
rounding St. Leonhards is not striking. Their slopes 
are tolerably cultivated, and present many cornfields, 
interspersed with dark patches of forest ; and from the 
front of Hofer's cottage, the before-mentioned village, 
with the taper spire of its church, has a very rural 
appearance. 

Of the cottage, or its inmates, little need be said. 
The former is a broad-roofed Swiss-built edifice, with 
an irregular front, and a small gallery before the main 
door-way of the principal apartments, which are, as 
usual, raised above the basement story. Hofer's widow, 



301 

with a few domestics, are the only inhabitants. I 
regret that, being overwhelmed with household matters, 
the manifold nature of which seemed to have some 
effect upon her temper, I had no opportunity of con- 
versation with the former. Indeed she seemed to shun 
it. Her appearance or demeanour is no way dis- 
tinguished from other Tyrolese females of her class 
of life. But the circumstance of my expectations being 
a little disappointed in this particular, — for it is very 
natural to think that the wife of a hero should be a 
heroine, — did not give Hofer himself less interest in my 
eyes, and I trust will not render the performance of my 
promise to relate the manner and time of his end un- 
welcome to my reader. 

Some general idea of his character, I trust may be 
gleaned from the disjointed notices interpersed in 
the foregoing pages. Without superior education, or 
any other advantages than such as accrued to him 
from observation and natural shrewdness, we have 
seen him, without ambition or intrigue on his part, 
invested with the twofold character, of chief and legis- 
lator, solely through the love and respect borne him 
by all classes of the peasantry. It was by no extra- 
ordinary display of personal courage that this was 
obtained ; for, though there never was reason to call his 
personal bravery in question, it is remarkable that 
during the whole course of the war of 1809, he was but 
once actually seen in the melee. In his disinterested- 
ness, and unfeigned devotion to his emperor, religion, 
and country, lay his real strength. He had one weakness, 
and that was, an inclination in moments of great diffi- 
culty, to lose his presence of mind and to despair : a 



302 hofer's cottage. 

failing detrimental to the cause for which he fought, 
and fatal to himself. We have seen that unable to 
decide one way or the other, when General d' Hilliers 
would have saved him from the effects of his imprudent 
resumption of arms after the peace had been proclaimed 
— he suddenly disappeared, and few even among his 
friends knew whither he had gone. 

His place of concealment from the close of November, 
was a lone chalet situated in the mountains about four 
leagues from his own habitation : at all times difficult of 
approach, and now nearly inaccessible from the winter's 
snow that surrounded it. Here, furnished with provi- 
sions by a few faithful adherents, frequently urged to 
make his escape out of the country, more than once 
visited, it is said, by messengers from the Emperor, 
promising to procure him a safe- guard to Vienna ; he 
lingered in the same uncertainty of mind : till, towards 
the end of January, a traitor of the name of Donay, 
once his intimate friend, bribed by the French, betrayed 
the place of his retreat. He had been warned of the 
possibility of this, but postponed his change of hiding 
place, and on the 20 th of January he was surrounded in 
the chalet by a large force, taken prisoner without 
resistance, and conveyed with his wife, son, and daugh- 
ter — amidst the exultation of the French and Bavarian 
soldiery, and the tears of the Tyrolese, numbers of 
whom pressed forward when opportunity offered to 
kiss his hand or his raiment, — to Botzen. Here he was 
kindly received by General d' Hilliers, and soon after 
sent off with a strong escort to Mantua ; taking a last 
farewell of his wife and children. His appearance was 
much altered, owing to the hardships he had undergone ; 



hofer's cottage. 303 

yet he maintained his cheerful demeanour, and seems 
never to have suspected that his life would be forfeited. 
He was led to the prison near the Porta Molina, where 
many of his countrymen were already confined. On the 
19th a court martial was summoned to try him in the 
Palazzo d'Arco. A great difference of opinion existed 
among his j udges ; but a telegraphic dispatch from Milan 
decided his fate. He was condemned to be shot within 
twenty- four hours. He heard the sentence without 
emotion ; but requested that he might be allowed 
the attendance of a priest. 

At sun-rise the following day, a batallion of grena- 
diers were ordered to the great bastion near the Porta 
Ceresa : and thither Hofer was led from his prison, 
amidst the tears and lamentations of his imprisoned 
brethren. On being told that he was forbidden to take 
leave of them, he turned to his confessor, Father 
Maniforti, and gave him a note for five hundred florins, 
with the words : ' This is all I possess : divide it among 
my unfortunate countrymen, and tell them that I go 
comforted to death, and expect their prayers will attend 
me on my journey.' 1 On passing the threshold of his 
prison, he knelt down, burst into tears, and prayed 
fervently for an instant. 

On his arrival at the place of execution, the grena- 
diers formed an open square, and he was placed- in the 
midst. Commending his soul to God, he requested 
his confessor to inform his family of his end. Twelve 
soldiers now stept forward, and he was told to kneel 

1 See the volume entitled Kriege der Tyroler Landleute im yahre 1809, 
by Professor Bertholdy : by far the best and most authentic work on this 
subject. 



304 THE VINTSCHGAU. 

down, ' No,' said he, * I stand in the presence of Him 
who has created me, and standing- will I give up my 
soul.' In the same manner he refused to allow his eyes 
to be bound. He then warned the commanding- officer 
to ' aim well,' and gave him one of the small pieces of 
money coined during his administration, saying * That 
is my last piece of money, it reminds me of my poor 
country even at this hour.' He then gave the word of 
command to fire. The first six shots were so badly 
aimed, that he merely sunk on one knee. Six others 
failed to kill him, and it was not till a thirteenth followed 
that he fell dead, in the forty-first year of his age. He 
was first buried in the church of the citadel ; I need 
not remind the reader where he now lies. Such was 
the end of Hofer, and his memory will long be cher- 
ished by his countrymen, by whom he was considered as 
a martyr in the cause of liberty. 

His wife and family were permitted to retire to 
Vienna, where the Emperor gave them an estate, and 
settled a pension on them. His only son John is at 
present resident in Upper Austria. 

In the course of the afternoon I returned to Meran, 
and as evening drew on, continued my route up the 
valley of the Adige. After threading the low dusky 
line of arcades that border the main street, I turned short 
round the cloister of the Capuchins, and reached the 
gate of the town. I have said that the vale of the Adige 
formed a right angle in the vicinity of Meran, and 
having the upper portion in view, my course was now 
accordingly directed to the westward. A good high 
road runs up the vale, and both traverses and com- 



NATURNS. 305 

mands, during the first league, a splendid and varied 
scene of south alpine beauty. From the vicinity of the 
hamlet of Parts in particularly the view is magnificent. 
From a steep slope, covered with picturesque cottages and 
luxuriant vines, whose foliage and fruit often formed a 
thick roof to the road over which they are carried 
upon espaliers ; the eye of the spectator looks down 
upon the angle of the vale of the Adige, its wilderness 
of vineyard and pretty town ; on every side rise broken 
and verdant hills, thickly sprinkled towards the foot 
of the higher and peaked mountains which impend 
over all, with cottages, villas, and fruit trees. The sides 
of the chain to the north of Meran, display a considerable 
number of ancient seats and castles, and among these 
the old dilapidated castle of Tyrol, which, belonging in 
ancient times to the Counts of Meran, has ultimately 
bequeathed its name to the whole of this portion of 
the Alps. 

The mountains are wooded to a very considerable 
height, particularly those on the right bank of the river, 
separating the valley of the Adige from the Urbenthal. 
Advancing half a league further, this beautiful scene 
however, becomes totally hidden ; and, as the traveller 
ascends, he finds himself suddenly introduced into a 
savage hollow between the slopes of the mountains, ad- 
mitting of no cultivation, and threaded by the foaming 
stream. From thence to Naturns, the valley varies much 
in breadth, and in feature. In the distance, the easter- 
most portion of the chain of the Ortler presents itself ; 
and the sun had sunk below it, before I reached the 
village where I proposed halting for the night. 

August X&tJi. The grey of the morning was steal- 
X 



306 PRA.D. 

ing over the vale, as I made the best of my way out 
of the village of Naturns where I had passed the night, 
and before noon , I had ascended the valley by the way 
of Latsch, to the small town of Schlanders. I cannot say, 
that the scenery of the higher part of the valley is in 
general striking. One or two pretty points there are : 
and among these I may mention the immediate neigh- 
bourhood of Gastenbell and Latsch. Schlanders is 
situated on a fine fertile oasis, near the foot of the 
northern chain. From thence the road passes for 
a league over a fan-formed tract of country, composed 
of the depositions of an unruly torrent coming out of 
the narrow Lizerthal, and afterwards descends towards 
the village of Laas. Here the eye obtains the view of a 
small portion of the glaciers in the chain of the Ortler, 
through a precipitous and narrow rift cutting the 
facade of the mountains to the south of the village : and 
also commands the whole of the remaining portion of the 
valley to the westward in the direction of Glurns, 
forming a kind of basin principally occupied by 
marshes. The ordinary term for the upper vale of 
the Etsch or Adige, is the Vintschgau. I proceeded 
along the base of the hills through the village of Eyrs to 
the bridge of Spandinig and the newly constructed road, 
which traverses the Adige and the flats, to effect a junc- 
tion with the great military road over the Monte Stelvio ; 
and by turning my face towards the latter, I renounced a 
visit to Glurns, in favour of the Ortler and his neighbours. 
The weather had been lowering, though fair, and I was 
not without my doubts as to the success of my project. 
I took up my night-quarters in a comfortable inn, in 
the village of Prad, at the foot of the mountains, and 



PRAD. 307 

near the entrance of the ravine leading up to Drofui. 
During the course of my walk across the level, I 
gained a glimpse of the little town of Glurns at a short 
distance, and the mountain sides surrounding me, were 
in general interesting from the number of hamlets upon 
them : — Lichtenberg, Agums, Stilfs, and many of infe- 
rior note among the number. 

Of the village which gave me shelter for the night I 
have but little to say. Seated on a bench before the 
rural inn, I rested from my journey, listened to the 
soothing chime of the bells sounding in the environs, 
and saw the sun set gloriously over the mountains, 
spreading for the space of half an hour a flush of the 
deepest crimson over the heavens. We will not forget 
that to-morrow night we shall no longer rest within the 
boundaries of the Tyrol, and that if the reader will 
learn the fate of others of her children, in addition to 
that of her former Chief, there is no hour more fitting 
than the present. 

We have followed the brave and devoted Hofer to 
capture and death ; let us inquire in to the fate of 
Speckbacher, and the Capuchin, Joachim Haspinger. 

The latter had found reason to believe that the news 
of the peace, as it was first noised abroad, was authen- 
tic, and had recommended a suspension of hostilities, 
even after Kolb's forgeries had gained the belief of other 
chiefs, and of the peasantry in general. The conse- 
quence was, that he became suspected by the latter, of 
being a turn-coat, and various impediments were opposed 
to his escaping over the frontiers. He put no confidence 
in the information conveyed to him of a general amnesty. 
At length he found means to escape over the Swiss fron- 

X 2 



308 PRAD. 

tier into the Miinsterthal ; but having learned that it 
was not improbable that he might be seized even there, 
he was constrained to return in deep snow, and sur- 
rounded by danger, into the Tyrol, where he lay hid 
among faithful friends for nine months, changing his 
hiding-place as necessity dictated. In August, 1810, 
he repaired in the monkish habit to the abbey of 
Einsiedeln, in Switzerland, thence by way of the 
Grisons to the lake of Como, and through the Veronese 
and Friuli, to Carinthia : reaching Vienna finally on 
All Saints' day in the same year. 

Speckbacher had arrived shortly before him, but a 
far deeper measure of bitter suffering had been 
awarded to that brave man in the interval. 

Upon the first official announcement of the treaty of 
peace having been fully ratified between the Emperor 
and Napoleon, Speckbacher, in obedience to the procla- 
mation, had laid down his arms and disbanded his com- 
panions. x He then retired to his family, who had taken 
refuge at Stallsins, a hamlet in the mountains ; intend- 
ing to keep quiet till such time as the news of the peace 
should be fully confirmed. He refused the proposals 
made to him by the French General Siebain to hold 
a conference with him, as compliance might make him 
suspected by his countrymen. But he too fell into the 
snare laid for the unhappy Tyrolese by the misguided 
Kolb. He received a letter from Hofer, stating the 
belief of that chief that the report of the official news of 

1 In the following narration, the writer follows the account given by 
Professor Bertholdy in his work on the Tyrol war ; the veracity of the 
facts having been confirmed to him at Hall in the month of May, by 
Speckbacher's widow and children. 



PRAD. 309 

the peace which had come to them, as though from 
Vienna, had been forged; and calling upon him to 
rise and renew the war without delay. Speckbacher 
obeyed : and instantly took measures to reassemble his 
comrades on both sides of the Inn. It had but just 
become known to the Bavarians that he was again in 
arms, when the peace was fully confirmed, and he had 
again to fly into concealment. This was about the 
middle of November. The instant his disappearance 
was observed, the Bavarians took every measure pos- 
sible to effect his apprehension. A price was set upon 
the capture of the Feuer-teafel : descriptions of his per- 
sonal appearance, and even wood-cuts pourtraying his 
features, were distributed far and wide : and the conse- 
quence was, that for several months, the hunt after him 
was kept up in the neighbouring mountains, day and 
night, without intermission. The forests, the chalets, 
and the caverns of the rocks were repeatedly searched 
by various parties. 

Speckbacher fled in the first instance in company of 
thirteen of his companions, and wandered without much 
intermission from one chalet to another. He made 
with them more than one fruitless attempt to escape 
over into the Pusterthal, but was unable to accomplish 
it, on account of the snows. At Christmas he lay in 
the village of Dux, in the heart of the mountains : and 
here took leave of his companions, whom he could no 
longer feed. One of their number, of the name of 
Holzer, was subsequently tempted by the proffered 
bribes of the Bavarians to deliver him into their power, 
and left no means untried to effect his treasonable pur- 
pose. Speckbacher s place of retreat in Dux was imme- 



310 PRAD. 

diately discovered, and he had to fly from alp to alp, 
higher and higher in the country, till at length, he was 
above the ordinary region of the forests. For the 
space of twenty-seven days he was chased from moun- 
tain to mountain, and more than once, was only saved 
from capture by astonishing presence of mind. The 
difficulty of obtaining food was so great that on one 
occasion he was four entire days without nourishment. 
Yet he bore up amidst famine, fatigue, cold, and hourly 
peril. During the course of these adventures he one 
day unexpectedly met with his wife and family, wan- 
dering houseless in the forests, having been obliged to 
quit their place of retreat on the Tulferberg, lest they 
should have been taken as hostages for the father's 
appearance. He descended with them to the village 
of Volderberg, where they remained sometime con- 
cealed together. But the reward upon his apprehen- 
sion having been raised to 700 florins, the activity of 
the search was rekindled, and he had again to leave 
them. He was menaced on every hand with capture : 
and now driven almost to despair, oppressed by soli- 
tude, pain, and hunger ; surrounded by the snows, with- 
out shelter from the alpine storms of this inclement 
season, and hunted from the vicinity of man, he resolved 
to betake himself to a hiding-place upon which he had 
fixed some months before, in case of being driven to 
extremity. This was a cavern upon the Gemshaken. 
one of the most precipitous and savage rocks in these 
mountains. The chamois sometimes resort to it 
for shelter in tempestuous weather. He had con- 
veyed into it, with the aid of a faithful domestic, a 
certain quantity of provisions and arms. It was justly 



PRAD. 311 

considered almost inaccessible, particularly at this sea- 
son ; and in a tempestuous snowy night, when the drifting 
wind obliterated his foot marks, and rendered pursuit 
impossible, the weary and lonely fugitive repaired to 
this place of retreat. 

There was but one way of approaching the mouth of 
the cavern. This he determined to defend : and lest he 
should be surprised in slumber, contrived to place a 
carbine in such a position, that whoever attempted to 
pass on the narrow pathway would infallibly discharge 
it, and thereby give him timely warning. In this awful 
solitude he remained during the depth of winter, collect- 
ing wood by night, and cookiDg his food with the greatest 
circumspection, lest the smoke of his fire should betray 
him. He was suffering from the wounds he had 
received at the defeat at Melek, which his subsequent 
fatigues had not allowed to close : but he had not even 
yet reached the climax of his suffering. 

Towards the commencement of March the snow 
began to melt. On the 14th a snow avalanche des- 
cended the mountain, and overwhelming him, tore him 
downwards with it for half a league. By this fearful 
accident he dislocated his hip, and found himself totally 
unable to climb again to his cavern. He now felt that 
he could no longer exist without the help of his fellow- 
creatures, and thought in his despair that it was better to 
fall into the hands of his pursuers, than to die here a lin- 
gering death, in solitude, anguish and famine. He col- 
lected his remaining strength and dragged himself down 
the mountain for seven miles, to the same cottage in the 
village of Volderberg, in which his family had been se- 
creted some time before. He reached it at ten o'clock 



312 PRAD. 

at night, after having been seven hours on the road. His 
friend received him, and a discreet and friendly surgeon 
was sent for, who came and reduced the dislocation. By 
the time this was effected the day had dawned, and he 
had therefore to lie quiet during the whole of the 15th. 
Longer concealment was here impossible. Therefore, 
when night had fully set in, Spielthenner the surgeon, and 
the master of the cottage set off with him; and 
carried him on their shoulders alternately over the 
most unfrequented byepaths for the distance of 
six miles, often wading with him through deep snow- 
drifts, to Rinn, and laid him carefully down under 
the shelter of his own stable, which as we have 
elsewhere related, is situated in a clump of trees, 
at some distance from the dwelling-house. Here he 
lay till four in the morning, at which hour his faithful 
valet, George Zoppel, coming as usual to fodder the 
cattle, found his master lying in the position described. 
How to conceal him was now the question. He 
straightway dug a hole in the interior of the stable, 
under the straw of the cattle, just spacious enough in 
length and breadth to admit the body of his master in 
a recumbent position, and immediately laid him within 
it, and covered him over with straw and manure to the 
height of half a foot ; leaving a smallhole for respiration 
under the belly of one of the cattle. From this night, to 
the 2nd of May following, a period of seven weeks, 
lay Speckbacher in this hole, as though buried alive — 
without the possibility of changing his position or appa^ 
rel : and was fed by his domestic with milk, bread, and 
eggs. During this whole interval, the Bavarians were 
quartered in the dwelling-house at a short distance, 



PRAD. 313 

and so necessary was it to keep silence, that George 
Zoppel did not, during this whole period, venture to 
inform Speckbacher's faithful wife, who was now 
living with her children in the house, that her husband 
was so near her ; lest her anxiety whenever the Bava- 
rians were seen entering the stable, which they con- 
stantly did — might betray the important secret. As it 
was, he had many narrow escapes from discovery. On 
one occasion, an officer instituted a search in the stable 
for concealed arms, and pursued the quest so near to 
the hole in which the wounded man lay, that the latter 
could have seized him by the foot. Towards the close 
of his captivity, his position became nearly insupport- 
able, from the damp, bad air, and uncleanliness that 
unavoidably surrounded him. His very clothes fell 
piece-meal from his body. One advantage, however, 
which resulted from this state of ' durance vile,' besides 
that of safety, was, that his hip became perfectly 
sound again. 

On the second of May, he raised himself from his bed, 
in order to seek liberty by escaping into Austria. Till the 
5th, he however remained in the stable, his nervous sys- 
tem being dreadfully enfeebled from his long confine- 
ment. He then caused his wife to be led to him. When 
she heard how long he had been in her immediate neigh- 
bourhood, and what he had suffered, she wept aloud, and 
could hardly be pacified. She loaded him with provi- 
sions, and accompanied him some few furlongs on his way. 
To avoid being seen, was now Speckbacher's great anxi- 
ety, and he accordingly avoided every human dwelling. 
He held his course over the highest Alps of the Voi- 
der, and Wattenthals, to Dux ; from thence over the 



314 mAD. 

mountains to the Zillerthal, passing the bridge on the river 
Zell by night, where the Bavarian guard were asleep 
by their watch-fire. He continued his course to the east, 
and passed into the Pinzgau. His weakness forbad his 
making forced marches ; but yet he had little rest, for 
when he lay down, the cold was so great on these elevated 
ridges, that he was soon obliged to put himself in 
motion again. It was not till the tenth day that he 
met with a human being. He had never shunned 
danger in battle ; but the thought of a disgraceful 
death from the hand of the executioner, haunted him 
day and night, and was fearfully terrible to him. 

By the guidance of Providence, he continued his 
journey without further danger from his enemies, and 
finally, traversing the Styrian Alps reached Vienna 
in safety. The following year he was visited by his 
wife. The reader will have understood that upon the 
return of the Tyrol to the dominion of Austria, Speck- 
bacher came back to his native valley to pass the 
remainder of his days. He never, however, recovered 
the robust health he formerly enjoyed, his sufferings 
had broken his constitution, and he died, as has been 
already mentioned, in 1820. 

With the chronicle of these adventures, I close my 
brief and hasty sketches of this remarkable epoch in 
the history of the Tyrol. If the reader has felt that 
his interest and sympathy has been excited or increased 
towards the Tyrolese, my end will be attained, and I 
shall feel assured that he pardons the guile of which 1 
avow myself guilty, in attempting to add interest to my 
own personal narrative, by linking with it in some 
measure the recollection of a brave and suffering 



THE GREAT ORTLER. 315 

people, and the memory of their deeds. I cannot but 
regret to add, that the present state of the Tyrolese is 
far from that which every generous mind could wish ; 
and Austria will one day reap the bitter fruits of 
her narrow and ungrateful policy, towards the bravest 
and most devoted of her children. Her conduct during 
the war of 1809 was indefensible, in instigating them re- 
peatedly to stand in the breach against an overwhelming 
force, which she herself had not the strength to confront ; 
leaving them finally to extricate themselves from the 
effects of their imprudence, and at the mercy of their 
enemies. And her conduct at this day is yet more 
reprehensible ; when, forgetful of the past, she treats 
the inhabitants of these vallies rather as the trophies of 
a recent conquest, than as those who have shed their 
blood, century after century, for the House of Habs- 
burg, and honourably and victoriously upheld its ban- 
ner, at a time when it was soiled and trampled on in 
every other corner of her dominions. But it is with 
nations as with individuals, and the most devoted 
affection may be eradicated from the bosom of a whole 
people by ingratitude. 



The Great Ortler-spitz ranks as the third summit in 
the chain of the European Alps, having an elevation 
of 14,466 feet over the Mediterranean. It rises from 
an extensive range of high glaciers, but is not to be 
viewed with advantage from the vallies at its foot, as 
their extreme narrowness prevents the spectator gaining 
such a point of view, as would give the mountain the 
full advantage of its great height. 



316 THE GREAT ORTLER. 

The first ascent of this colossal mountain took place 
in the year 1804. The Archduke John of Austria had 
authorized Dr. Gebhard, a gentleman devoted to 
scientific pursuits, to pass into this corner of the Tyrol, 
and procure such information as might determine the 
question of the summit being accessible or not. Ac- 
cordingly, in the summer of the aforementioned year, 
he came into the Vintschgau, and examined all the 
vallies descending from the flanks of the mountains. 
But insurmountable difficulties seemed to oppose them- 
selves to the project ; and though a reward was offered 
to any one who could gain the summit, no one was 
found sufficiently hardy to effect the enterprize. Dr. 
Gebhard seems to have despaired of success, when sud- 
denly a chamois hunter of the name of Pichler, a native 
of the Passeyrthal offered himself for the service. His 
known character as a fearless and skilful hunter obtained 
him the assistance of two peasants of the Zillerthal ; 
and on the 27th of September he set off from Drofui. 
Between ten and eleven o'clock, A. M. they reached 
the highest point. The difficulty of breathing was so 
great, that they were only able to make a halt of five 
minutes ; but they made use of this short interval to 
observe the barometer. At eight in the evening they 
were again in Drofui. Fatigue had almost deprived 
them of the power of speech ; for they had been seven- 
teen hours incessantly in motion, over rock, snow, 
and ice, and often in the most appalling danger. The 
two barometers, on the summit, tallied exactly ; and 
corresponding observations were made at Mais. Pich- 
ler is still living, and is described to be in his move- 
ments, more like a goat than a human being. From 



THE GREAT ORTLER. 317 

fifty to sixty chamois, in the course of the summer, are 
his usual spoil. 

The Great Ortler was ascended from the Suldner- 
thal, three several times, by Dr. Gebhard in person, 
in the course of the following summer. It is much 
more accessible from that flank. Its geological forma- 
tion is a dark grey limestone. 

Threatening as the weather had been for some 
days, I was yet to be favoured; and while I was 
quickly working my way up the narrow vale, down 
which a foaming stream descends from these mighty 
glaciers, I was cheered by seeing the gradual dis- 
persion of the mist that had clothed all objects for 
some hours after sunrise ; and by the time I reached 
the little chapelry and village of Drofui, but little 
lingered upon the mountains below me, and none upon 
the broad glistening waste of glaciers rising from the 
head of the valley. 

The ravine up which I had advanced forms the only 
approach to the base of these glaciers from the 
northward, though it has two distinct heads, sepa- 
rated by buttresses of the Ortler: the westernmost 
that of Drofui, and the easternmost that of Sulden. 
Had my time permitted, I should have been glad to 
visit the latter. The great glacier descending into 
it, is recorded to have suddenly made an advance, of 
nearly five miles, in the course of the year 1823 ; and 
to be now gradually retiring. 

Beyond Drofui the head of the valley opens into a 
kind of basin, overhung by impending glaciers; the 
Ortler-spitz rises to the left, and before you lies the long 
waste of ice and snow, stretching between the latter 



318 THE PASS OF THE M. STELVIO. 

and the Madatsch-spitz, a singular black mass of rock, 
starting abruptly from the breast of the snowy moun- 
tain, directly over the further end of the valley. Exten- 
sive glaciers descend on either side of it toward the 
base. The acclivities are partially covered with larch 
forest, and furrowed by immense earth-slides. You 
are too much under the Ortler to see it with advantage. 

In these elevated vallies, lying under the shadow 
of the huge mountains to the southward, spring makes 
its appearance at a very advanced period of the 
year. At that cheering and delicious season, when the 
face of nature appears to smile under the influence 
of genial suns and fruitful showers in the lower and 
more favoured portions of these regions, and upon the 
vast plains at their feet, — the gales of winter are still 
moaning in these awful solitudes. And, while other 
lands put on their fresh covering of verdure, a fearful 
contrast is afforded by the broad work of desolation, 
which here heralds the close of winter. There is no 
early verdure — no cheerful song of birds ; but the fre- 
quent avalanche, the bursting and encroaching glacier, 
and the fall of rocks, are the tokens of the sun's return. 

The great military road over the Stilfser-joch or 
Monte Stelvio, now turns to the right, up the north side 
of a ravine, descending from the westward, and opposite 
to an enormous and precipitous pile of rock, forming the 
shoulder of the Madatsch-berg. After clearing the first 
angle of the mountain by following its windings, you 
arrive at a small inn, from whence the eye commands 
the depth and termination of the ravine before you, 
and the whole course of this astonishing route to the 
summit of the ridge, in a series of interminable zigzags 



THE PASS OF THE M. STELVIO. 319 

lessening in the perspective. The sun was getting to 
its full power, and as I surmounted turn after turn, I 
felt that some fatigue would be incurred before T stood 
on the boundary between the Tyrol and the Tale Tel- 
lina. The forests ceased with the valley of Drofui, but 
to them succeed slopes, covered with a vegetation of 
such brilliancy and beauty, that I could not but be 
amused. Many rare plants found only upon the 
southern Alps, crowd the sod at the side of the road. 

Long, however, before the five miles at which the 
ascent is calculated had been surmounted, the her- 
bage grew thinner, and at length ceased altogether, 
giving place to rock and shale which returned the 
hot sun-beams with interest. The greater portion of 
the last league presented a singular and astonishing 
example of human labour. Half the width of road is 
for the most part covered in by strongly constructed 
wooden galleries, with roofs and supports sufficiently 
massive to resist the pressure of descending avalanches, 
to which this slope is very subject. This need not be 
wondered at, when the great height of this ridge over 
which this great undertaking is carried is recollected. 
The glaciers descending from the flanks of the 
Madatsch-berg, had long been under my feet, and when 
breathless and exhausted, I stood upon the highest 
point, I seemed nearly upon the same level us the 
waste of glaciers from which the principal summits are 
seen to arise. They almost may be said to border the 
route. The extreme height of the pass is 9091 feet 
above the level of the sea, and consequently the road 
over the Monte Stelvio is by far the most elevated 
in Europe. It has been but recently constructed at 



320 THE PASS OP THE M. STELVIO. 

an enormous expense by the Austrian government, to 
enable the troops of that power to pass from the heart 
of Germany into the Milanese, without infringing upon 
the territories of any neutral power. The Swiss have 
long and nobly resisted the cession of the neighbouring 
Monte Brauglio to facilitate the purpose. 

As the ridge is computed to rise nearly 800 feet 
above the snow line, the road is scarcely practicable for 
troops or heavy stores for longer than a period of 
eight weeks in the height of summer. It is not the 
most picturesque of the Passes of the Alps, but 
certainly one of the most singular. The engineer was 
an Italian of the name of Donegani. From this point 
the Ortler is seen to much greater advantage, rising 
directly opposite, with a roundish summit to a vast 
height. Yet I cannot but own that I was disap- 
pointed. The whole form and colour of the rocks of 
these mountains is far from being picturesque, and they 
conveyed to my mind an impression at the time, of 
forming so many enormous piles of cinders half covered 
with snow. Light fleecy clouds were in motion over 
this and the other elevated summits, sailing majes- 
tically along, till they reached the highest ridges, when 
they flew with increased velocity, which showed there 
must be strong wind playing around them. The finest 
point of view for the Great Ortler, is probably the 
passage at the head of the Vintschgaw, between 
Glurns and Nauders. 

But here we must bid adieu to the Tyrol, and it is 
not without regret that the Pedestrian deos so : for it is 
a beautiful land, and noble and elevated recollections 
are associated with its name and scenery. 



CHAPTER IX. 



1 The mountains of this glorious land 
Are conscious beings to mine eye, 
When at the break of day they stand 
Like giants, looking through the sky, 
To hail the sun's unrisen car, 
That gilds their diadems of snow; 
While one by one, as star by star 
Their peaks in ether glow.' 



From the summit of the Monte Stelvio, the traveller 
descends by a zigzag road to a small inn and guard- 
house, situated at the junction of the mule-path from 
the Monte Brauglio with the main route. The latter 
is seen winding down into the narrow ravine of the 
Wormserloch ; beyond which it is continued to the 
villages of Worms, Chiavenna, and the head of the 
Lake of Como. The whole of this line of route had 
originally had a place in my projected ramble, but at 
this moment I turned my back upon it without a strug- 
gle, having for the first time in my life reason to say, 
that I had sufficiently indulged in solitude and solitary 
wandering, and I now longed after the hour when I 
should see a friend's face, and hear a friend's voice. 
By turning to the right, and gaining the head of the 
Monte Brauglio, which lies about one thousand feet 
lower than the ridge of the Stelvio, I crossed the boun- 
dary of Switzerland, not without some feeling of ex- 



322 ST. MARIA. 

ultation ; and after two hours' extremely rugged descent, 
I gained the level of the pretty vale of Taufers or 
Miinsterthal, near the village of St. Maria. An hour's 
rest under the shade of the larch forest skirting the 
foot of the mountains, gave me the humour to add a 
few miles to my day's journey, and to attempt to reach 
a village higher up the valley, called Fuldera. 

The ordinary route from the Tyrol into this retired 
corner of Switzerland, is from the town of Glurns 
situated at the junction of the river Rom with the 
Adige. The Miinsterthal, and the long vale of the 
Engadine, are the only two vallies claimed by the Con- 
federation on the eastern flanks of the Rhetian Alps. 
Both are attached to the Grisons. The village of St. 
Maria was in a very great bustle, it being the Saint's 
birthday ; and I made the best of my way through the 
press, finding myself as much the object of curiosity as 
though I had fallen from the stars ; and taking a foot- 
path running through the meadows, proceeded up the 
valley. At Fuldera I put up at a very poor house of 
entertainment, kept by a very decent looking woman, 
dressed in that sober costume by which the reformed in 
the Engadine and its adjacent vallies, are outwardly 
distinguished. The major part of the inhabitants of the 
Miinsterthal are of this persuasion, and speak all the 
Romane language. On hearing this, I was somewhat 
surprised in recollecting the scene of truly Roman Catho- 
lic festivity I had observed in the last village of St. 
Maria, the more so, as I learned that the inhabitants 
were there also, soi-disant reformed. Though my hostess 
was far from communicative, I contrived to get at the 
bottom of the matter, and while I am awaiting the result 



THE MUNSTERTHAL. 323 

of certain operations carried on in the kitchen in my 
behalf, I may entertain my reader with a few words 
concerning" the Madonna at Santa Maria. 

This worshipful and wonder-working image of the 
blessed virgin had held court in the church of the said 
village from time immemorial, and enjoyed much repu- 
tation not only among the ancient inhabitants of this 
vale, but also among the dwellers on the opposite slope 
of the Alps and the Val Telline, not to speak of the 
neighbouring Tyrol. Nevertheless the day came, when 
a great number of dwellers in the said Miinsterthal chan- 
ged their faith in common with their neighbours of the 
Engadine; and, what is the most to our purpose, the bulk 
of the burgers of St. Maria were not steeled to convic- 
tion, but burst the superstitious bond which had bound 
them to the pope and the goddess upon the high altar 
of their church. Yet the number of Catholics that had 
a voice in church matters was sufficiently numerous to 
demand a compromise. Accordingly, the following 
agreement was solemnly entered into, between the re- 
formists and their Roman Catholic brethren. That the 
church should be the common place of worship for both 
parties, retaining its original interior arrangement and 
garniture, its high altar and madonna, as long as any of 
the descendants of the then contracting parties should 
inhabit their native village, and profess Catholicism. 
But that as soon as these had died out, the church 
should be in all respects protestantized, the madonna 
obliged to take her leave, and the symbols of the Romish 
worship abolished, without regard to the number of 
Catholics residing in or near St. Maria, not having a 
claim in the property of the church. 

Y 2 



324. THE MUNSTERTHAL. 

Years passed silently forward, generation succeeded 
generation ; and Catholicism gradually ceased to be the 
doctrine professed by the descendants of one of the con- 
tracting parties ; yet the madonna continued to be in 
high repute among the > strangers, the Tyrolese and 
Italians sojourning among them, and the Saint's day 
was celebrated with becoming bustle and licence. But 
now comes the rub — the moment anticipated has 
arrived ; all the proprietors of the church are pro- 
testant, and the madonna has been civilly desired to 
choose another home, and to tramp forth. To this 
however a stern negative has been returned ; and 
as her abettors in this act of faithless contumacy are 
numerous, and have powerful allies both to the east and 
south, appeal has been made to the court of judicature 
at Coire to send commissioners to settle the business. 
It seems that the said court opines, that the prosecution 
of the matter would involve some disagreeable conse- 
quences, and therefore delay, from year to year, to bring* 
the matter to a decision. The reader must not, how- 
ever, suppose, that in the meantime the good protes- 
tants of the Miinsterthal hide their heads with grief and 
shame, during the celebration of vanity-fair. On the 
contrary, they argue, that ' what cannot be cured, must 
be endured ; ' and that it would be showing a want of bro- 
therly feeling, not to participate in the rejoicings of their 
neighbours, albeit that they were better laid aside. And 
I assure you, that as far as fraternity and liberality of 
feeling can be cemented by wine and strong drink, it 
stood a marvellously good chance at St. Maria ; for 
both protestant and catholic were as busy tippling, as 
warm weather and warm hearts could make them. The 



FULDERA. 325 

borders of the fields of rye in the neighbourhood were 
sprinkled with the bodies of many of both classes, a 
piece of intelligence which I acquired from the lips of 
a decent kind of man whom I overtook between the 
villages, and whose company I kept till I found that 
he was not only a protestant and a sugar-baker, but 
also exceedingly tipsy himself. 

The evening closed in with portentous darkness. 
The thunder roaring among the mountains, and rain 
beating against my window, kept me long awake in the 
middle of the night, and the dawn of the coming day 
broke late, and with a boding glare, upon the dark forests 
on the mountain sides. The summits were clothed in 
lead-coloured mists. Between me and Zernetz in the 
Engadine, lay the pass of the Buffalora, and the Val 
del Forno, a long, deeply forested and savage tract, 
famed in these countries for the number of bears still 
existing in its recesses. I had to pass it alone, and knew 
moreover that the weather would in all probability be 
such as to demand all my strength of body and elasticity 
of spirit ; in denying myself therefore much indulgence 
in story listening, I consulted my ultimate comfort 
rather than my present curiosity. If you are willing to 
hear, the peasants are willing enough to tell many a 
startling story of rencontres and encounters, with this 
unwieldy yet powerful savage. But to my journey. 

I quitted Fuldera without breaking my fast, as the 
moment of fair weather with which the day commenced 
was not to be neglected ; and advancing swiftly over 
the wet sod, soon gained the highest village of Tschirfs. 
Here it was not till after a considerable delay, that I 
contrived to secure the portion of nourishment that was 



326 THE PASS OF THE 13UFFALORA. 

needed. I retain a grateful sense of the hospitable kind- 
ness with which, having- been rebuffed by a cross-grained 
elderly deaf woman, I was welcomed, listened to, and 
well fed by the younger females of a family, whom I 
found occupying a small chamber, to the number of six 
or seven, and busily occupied in preparing a set of 
mourning suits for some afflicted household in their 
neighbourhood. God bless them for it ; — and another 
neighbour of theirs, who, seeing me about to direct 
myself towards the BufFalora, opened his door, and 
said it was a wild road, and 1 should be the better for 
a good morning sclinaps to keep the heart up and the 
wet out. Though I did not accept his offer, his kind- 
ness warmed my heart quite as much as the fiery 
schnaps would have done. Once fairly in motion, I 
was myself surprised at the rapidity with which the 
vale vanished below me, as T climbed the broken ridge 
at the head of the valley. But there was good reason 
to take time by the forelock. Thunder-clouds were 
closing over the mountains, and I was not aware that 
I should see a house for five hours to come. The 
ridge was soon crossed, being neither very high, (7000 
feet) nor difficult of access, and then came the long 
descending footway, which, after traversing a small 
open plain, entered into those sombre fir forests, of 
whose inhabitants I have already spoken. 

Bears there may be, and bears there were in all pro- 
bability, but I had no time to think much of them. A 
dashing pace carried me deep into these gloomy forests, 
and deeper and deeper into the ravine which stretched 
out before me, whose closing perspective, was shut in by 
the flanks of the mountains. The stunted growth of 



THE PASS OF THE BUFFALORA. 327 

the trees generally allowed me a limited view, and one 
still wider was obtained whenever my path led me to 
one of those open pastures with which the forests were 
intermingled. Meanwhile instead of advancing, the 
day seemed to be closing : the short-lived sun-beams, 
which had crawled across the mountain sides as I left 
my night quarters, had long been quenched in thick 
vapour ; and layer after layer seemed to be added to 
the curtain spread over my head. A low, indistinct 
moan of distant thunder had for some time, never 
ceased to fill the air, as, rolling down the higher 
ravines, its echoes were borne far from the actual 
scene of its production. Heavy drops of rain fell 
from time to time, but in no quantity; one moment, 
sullenly pattering upon the thickly crowded needles of 
the forest, and then, as suddenly withheld. The lower 
part of the country however soon took that appearance 
which could not be mistaken, as prognosticating a 
speedy advance of the tempest to this quarter of the 
mountains. A dull white haze hung down from the 
regular line and level of the mists, to the very depth 
of the valley, and frequent red glimmerings shone 
through the cloudy curtain, while the thunder became 
more distinct with the lapse of every minute. My 
progress down the vale was likely to bring me sooner 
within the scope of the coming storm, yet naturally 
enough the rate of that progress was rather in- 
creased than retarded. Just as the rain began to sound 
among the rocks and trees in my immediate vicinity, I 
espied before me, at a short distance, a building of 
some description on the verge of one of the aforemen- 
tioned meadows, surrounded ~by the forest, and hastening 



328 THE PASS OF THE BUFFALORA. 

forward, I gained it just as a minute's exposure to the 
falling torrent, had made shelter of any kind welcome. 
But what a shelter ! I crept through the broken 
wall! of the shattered ruin, and cast a disappointed 
eye upward towards the descending torrents, from 
which I saw no protection, as no vestige of the roof re- 
mained. The state of the walls was such, as to 
threaten me with a grave every time that the deep red 
thunderbolt which now flashed on every side, was 
followed by the peal of crashing thunder. The opening 
to the cellars it is true, yawned at my feet, and by leap- 
ing down, I might have been in shelter from the rain, 
but the idea of a downfall of the old building, and the 
crush or incarceration consequent upon it, prevented 
me. I accordingly posted myself in the only angle of 
the building which bore any marks of solidity, and half 
crouched in a sunken embrasure, deprecated the tor- 
rents, which poured through the roofless opening on to 
the heap of matted rubbish and weeds in the interior, 
thus remaining motionless for the next half hour, during 
which the thunder-storm seemed to spend its fury. After 
this pause, preferring a reasonable wetting to the tenure 
of my insecure and comfortless place of retreat, I quitted 
its portal, and continued my way. Three quarters of an 
hour's further and continued descent brought me 
unexpectedly to a small farm called Ofen, and thence, 
refreshed by a basin of soup and flask of wine, I continued 
my course. A long, wearisome, and protracted march, 
up and down the flanks of the mountains, through what 
should be a strangely romantic country, brought me 
eventually, some time about the middle of the day, in 
sight of the Engadine, and in another hour's time I 



ZERNETZ. 329 

arrived at Zernetz. Here I had intended to take up 
my quarters ; but the bad weather had put a spur to 
my motion, and I resolved to make good my advance 
towards the foot of the Albula, which T wished if pos- 
sible to traverse on the morrow. To this I was further 
tempted, by a passing sun-beam in the first place, the 
wretched inns in Zernetz in the second, the snapping 
of the dogs (upon one or two I this time executed ven- 
geance) in the third, the rudeness of the inhabitants in 
the fourth, and my constitutional obstinacy in the fifth. 
Accordingly I lost no great portion of my time, but fol- 
lowing the road with which the perusal of these memoirs 
has already made the reader acquainted, I commenced 
my ascent from Zernetz, towards the Upper Engadine. 
A loud clap of thunder which burst from this part of 
the country just as I left the village, was a bad omen : 
for I had no sooner cleared the cultivated grounds and 
advanced up the bare, uninhabited, and shelterless 
tract between that place and the next village Cinuscel, 
than the thunder-gust driving down the vale, poured 
a torrent of hail, sleet, and rain in my face. Deep red 
lightning and echoing peals of thunder were added to 
this. The storm continued to rage with unabated fury for 
the better part of an hour, and even then though the 
thunder ceased, the cold rain continued to descend in 
torrents, accompanied by a piercing wind, till my clothing 
was thoroughly soaked, and my teeth chattered in my 
head with the chilliness, which, in spite of continued 
motion I was not able to ward off. In this manner I 
passed Cinuscel and Capella, not turning aside, because 
I saw no wisdom in sitting a long evening in my wet 
clothes, and hoping for a fair interval before sun-set, when 



330 zuz. 

continued exercise would do something" towards giving 
me a drier back, and much towards averting bad 
consequences. Nor was I altogether disappointed ; 
for it grew gradually clearer to the westward, and, 
before I reached the village of Scanf, the blue sky 
began to appear in that quarter, and the rain ceased. 
I passed swiftly forward to the next in succession, 
and finally came to a halt at a small inn in the centre 
of the village of Zuz. I found it crowded with a 
motley assemblage of travellers, all apparently of the 
country, as the Ladin was the language mostly current 
amongst them. I was shown into a villainous low 
dark little hole, with two beds in it, up which I 
climbed, by a stair like the ladder to a hen-roost ; and 
having made what slight change I was able in my 
apparel, returned to the common room, the animal 
warmth of which was far from being unwelcome. 
After my frugal supper, I saw one or other of the 
parties around me disappear, as each withdrew to 
his hiding-place, and shortly after made a motion 
to follow. 

The good woman of the house seemed to have con- 
ceived more favourable ideas of my quality than upon 
my first appearance, and whispered to me, that I should 
be conducted to a better sleeping apartment than that 
to which I had originally been introduced. I own I 
was indifferent about the matter, but first diving into 
the dark hole, and groping for my goods and chattels, 
during which operation I found that both beds were 
already tenanted, I followed her. I was ushered into 
a decent apartment for size, with a floor swimming 
with water, it having been newly splashed or washed, 



zuz. 331 

•and was filled by an atmosphere so thick and damp, 
that the candle burnt as though in a mist. 

Now I forewarn my reader, that there is truth in 
the old adage that necessity is a hard task-master, and 
that now and then, supposing that he travels much 
and is contented to take things as he finds them, he 
may find himself in truly singular and ludicrous 
situations. I was here in a part of the country 
where there are few travellers, and the majority of 
these, natives of the country; probably such as had 
pretensions to more refined and delicate feeling, 
had never thrown the simple ideas of the host and 
hostess into confusion, by objecting to arrangements 
which had never before given offence. And I 
knew sufficient of the domestic arrangements of the 
people, not to be surprized at the discovery I made 
when left to myself. 

A glance round the chamber showed me that it con- 
tained three beds, placed in as many corners : two were 
already occupied. Out of one protruded the head of 
an elderly man, and, if my judgment was not obscured, 
out of the other the bandaged night-gear of a woman. 
If doubt had existed, it was speedily dissipated by 
the husband breaking silence, and commencing a 
parley, which was soon imitated by his helpmate 
with such life and vivacity, that, wet, cold, - and ill- 
humoured, as I may be supposed to have been, I could 
not help laughing, when stowing myself under the 
huge bag of feathers, I was every instant obliged to 
open my mouth to respond to the one or the other. 
At length I was tired out, and, by extinguishing the 
lamp, and bidding the wife a good night, — the man had 



332 zuz. 

already been silent, and upon the verge of a snore, for 
a minute or two, — I put a civil end to the colloquy, 
and composed myself to rest : as to sleep, that was 
out of the question. 

But, kept awake, my unwonted position condemned 
me to be witness to such constant snarling, grunting, 
and snorting, on the part of the man ; — and sighing, 
wheezing, complaining, and general uneasiness, on the 
part of the woman, as alternately excited my smiles, 
wrath, and commiseration. Both must have been ill 
at ease ; and I am sure I was. While the husband 
snored and grunted in his corner with a violence that 
was provokingly ridiculous ; the wife, sitting up in bed, 
and continually shifting her position, rung a change 
every quarter of an hour, upon the ejaculations, — 
' Ah ! Ah ! He ! What a cramp ! — Holy Maria ! Here 
comes a spasm. Ow, wow, wow ! Jacob, Jacob ! — Jacob, 
art thou asleep ? ' But her sorrows elicited no sympa- 
thetic exclamation from her partner, who continued 
to snore a deep, thorough-base accompaniment, to her 
plaintive and varied recitative. 

Such being the dolorous duetto, by which my wakeful 
hours were soothed, it may well be believed that early 
on the morrow, 

August 17th, I rose, quitted the uncomfortable bed, 
and the society to which its occupation had condemned 
me; and taking the road towards Pont, was glad 
to perceive some signs of a favourable day. Such 
I had every reason to wish for, as the passage of the 
Albula was a yet more serious matter than that of the 
Buffalora. I had soon traversed the level road to 
the village — crossed the Inn — found means to break 



THE PASS OF THE ALBULA. 333 

my fast, and by seven o'clock had addressed myself to 
my task. 

The pathway to the Albula leaves the vale of the 
Engadine immediately behind the village, and com- 
mences the ascent of a broken ravine, partly studded 
with larch. This leads on to the pastures, and there 
I immediately became enveloped by mist, which, con- 
tinuing to thicken rather than disperse, for some hours 
to come, prevented me from giving any account of the 
features distinguishing this passage. A long climb 
was followed by as long a descent. One portion of 
the mountain seems to be thickly strown with granite 
fragments, brought down by the avalanches which 
render the passage of this mountain dangerous in 
spring. The Albula takes its name from the rocks 
of gypsum near the summit. Two mountain-lakes, one 
many hundred feet above the other, may also be no- 
ticed. Some refreshment, procured in a small inn at 
the foot of the latter, gave me a fresh impetus, and I 
continued my descent rapidly, and was at Bergiin, a 
considerable village, before I was aware. Thence the 
mule-path is carried through the rocks forming the 
wall of a profound and savage ravine, called the Ber- 
giiner stein, which may be compared to the celebrated 
Via Mala, on the road between Coire and the Splu- 
gen. Issuing from this, it winds down a* wooded 
vale, — in which I remarked most beautiful marble 
lying on the surface in huge blocks, — and finally ter- 
minates in the more open valley at the village of 
Filisur. Now came the rain again ; and I proceeded 
with dogged perseverance, having yet day-light suffi- 
cient, down the vale, in the first instance to the Baths 
) 



334 coire. 

of Alvenue, and then over the shoulder of the moun- 
tain, by the village of Brienz to that of Lenz, where I 
fell into a known route. The country is dreary upon the 
whole, though studded with many large villages. The 
mountains, descending toward the deep ravine of Tief- 
fenkastein, at the entrance of the Vale of Oberhalbstein 
are clothed with the gloomiest forests it is possible to 
imagine. 

My passage on the following morning, from Lenz to 
Coire, a distance of five leagues, was entirely over 
known ground, and therefore I need not recapitulate. 
Hail-storms were driving on the mountains ; but I 
descended to the town of Coire and valley of the 
Rhine in a cheering gleam of sunshine. 

Letters which were here awaiting my arrival, gave 
me intelligence that rendered my proposed stay in 
this town unadvisable : and it was consequently limited 
to but a few hours' duration. I now proposed follow- 
ing the Vorder Rhine to its source, and gain the Canton 
of Bern, by traversing the passes of the Ober-Alp and 
the Susten. The gleam of sunshine with which I 
entered the town, was but of short continuance, for as 
I turned my face to the westward, a black storm 
had already enveloped the distant Falknis in its 
shroud, and was driving up the valley with great 
rapidity. Nevertheless, I persevered in advancing, 
and met with my reward, as though the Galanda to 
my right was quickly obscured by a tempest of rain 
and hail, the storm seemed checked by the counter- 
currents of air at the angle of the Rhine valley, and 
ascending the mountains, left me tolerably fair weather 
on the line of my route. 



REICHENAU. 335 

The village of Ems is singularly situated at the foot 
of a row of diminutive hillocks starting up in the midst 
of the tongue of level ground forming the bosom of the 
Rhine-valley, about a league from Coire. A few 
miles further you reach the bridge and castle of 
Reichenau situated near the entrance of the great 
valley to the left, watered by the conjoined streams of 
the Albula and Rofla, forming together what may be 
called the Hinter- Rhine. And here I was to quit the 
beaten road, which, turning to the southward, penetrates 
into the recesses of the Alps, and forms the connecting 
line with the Bernhardin and the Splugen ; and in its 
place to take a mule-path for my guide, leading up the 
valley of the Vorder- Rhine to the Grison-Oberland. — 
The bridge of Reichenau is a bold and masterly 
specimen of carpentry, being bent in a single span, 
at the height of 80 feet above the broad and unruly 
surface of the conjoined streams of the two Rhines. 
It is about 200 feet in length. The castle is a 
large and well-kept country-seat. Here the level 
before alluded to comes to a termination, and 
from this point, for many leagues, the Rhine rolls 
through a varied, savage valley of considerable ex- 
tent, choaked with irregular offsets from the high 
chains of either side. My road led me directly up 
to the village of Tamins, situated on the mountain 
side above the chateau of Reichenau, and then turning 
westward and ascending gradually higher, struck more 
into the mountains and further from the bed of the 
river. For some time after quitting the bridge, I 
enjoyed a fine view of the different vallies. Coire was 
just distinguishable in the shadow of the mountains, 



336 FLIMS. 

in whose angle it is placed. Not far from the entrance 
of the diverging valley of the Hinter-Rhein, the pic- 
turesque old castellated pile of Rezuns was a prominent 
object, and the glistening church- towers of many vil- 
lages were seen fainter and fainter in the distance, till 
lost in the intense blue of the mountain ranges which 
rose over the head of that valley. Their summits were 
hid in the layers of the passing storms. The hill-side 
upon which I was proceeding, being fully exposed to the 
southward, exhibited considerable fertility ; and many 
fine trees were scattered about the pathway. A little 
beyond the village of Trins, my path, which had hitherto 
kept me within sight of the main valley, rounded a 
picturesque hollow in the breast of the mountain, with 
a village situated on its outer edge, and then unex- 
pectedly conducted me due north, and ushered me 
into a most peculiar little valley shut in by the moun- 
tains, and once, no doubt, occupied by a lake. I thus 
lost sight of the valley of the Rhine for at least a 
couple of hours, when, having passed over an indiffer- 
ent tract of country and the outskirts of the village of 
Flims, situated at a height of at least 1500 feet above 
Coire, I was led again towards it by a rapid descent. 
The reason of this detour I was unable to dis- 
cover. By the time I was in full view of the irre- 
gular hollow of the main valley, the sun was sink- 
ing amidst the broken clouds to the deep mountain 
barrier to the north west : and alternate pale green 
light and deep shadow were chequering a picture of 
singularly savage scenery. Views of this class, I be- 
lieve, are characteristic of the Grisons. 

I stood upon the brink of one of those tremendous 



ILANZ. 337 

earth-slides which are frequently met with in those por- 
tions of the Alps, where the slopes of the main chains 
are formed of gravel, marl, sand, or any other yielding 
substance. The devastation caused by the operation 
of an unruly torrent, at the foot of a steep acclivity 
composed of these soft and crumbling materials, may 
be easily conceived ; and, in consequence, the green 
slopes of the mountains are often seen to present 
deep" and irregular rifts of astonishing dimensions. 
To the right, the bosom of the valley of the Rhine 
displayed another little level, extending to the junc- 
tion of the Glenerthal, with the main valley near the 
town of Ilanz. Beyond the latter, the view was 
again shut in by the mountains. From Coire to 
Ilanz, the valley of the Rhine, savage as it is, in 
many respects is really magnificent, and worthy of 
being the cradle of one of the noblest rivers of 
Europe. I soon gained the level of the vale near the 
village of Sagens, took a foot-road, leading through the 
meadows to the following one of Schlbwis, of which the 
chateau is a pretty object ; and in another half-hour 
entered my proposed night-quarters close to the bridge 
of Ilanz. To-day the goats had returned to their rest 
before me : in general I esteem myself fortunate if I 
reach my place of repose before the tinkle of their 
bells is heard in the village. 

In this part of the country there is a strange mixture 
of the Catholic and Reformed religions, and you can 
never be certain that the next village will not differ in 
its belief from the one through which you are passing. 
The Romane continues to be very generally spoken. 
Ilanz is the principal town in this district of the G risons, 

z 



338 TRONS. 

and bad as the so-called high-road had been to-day, I 
was told that I must expect a still worse in proceeding. 
My inn here was the cleanest, prettiest, and most un- 
assuming I have seen since I left merry England — God 
bless it. The night closed in unpropitiously, and the 
constant patter of rain did not promise much for the 
morrow. 

I started at an early hour from the bridge of Ilanz in 
a heavy shower of rain, and entering the narrow part 
of the valley by a lane choaked with mud, waded for- 
ward to the best of my power. My haste was not 
uncalled for. I had a long day's journey before me, 
doubtful weather, and what was the most serious con- 
sideration, the passage of an elevated ridge at the 
close instead of at the beginning. For a couple of 
hours, my pathway led me through a low tract of 
brushwood, principally on the right bank of the Rhine : 
the only point of interest during which passage, was 
a fine cascade descending from the mountains at that 
side ; and I did not issue into a more open country, till 
having traversed the stream once more near the hamlet 
of Tavanasa, I gained the vicinity of the celebrated 
village of Trons, whose fine aged sycamore and little 
chapel, formed a pretty foreground to the view of the 
higher portions of the valley, which are here spread out 
before the traveller. 

In approaching Trons, the traveller must call to 
mind that he is in a neighbourhood rendered sacred 
in the eyes of the inhabitants of the Grisons, by 
the circumstance that it was within the shade of its 
ancient forests, that the liberty which they have 
enjoyed for so many years, first took root. It was 



TRONS. 339 

towards the commencement of the fifteenth century, 
that, wrung by the sense of the injustice and oppres- 
sion which they endured from their feudal lords, by 
whom they were continually engaged in blood and 
broil, the inhabitants of these vallies determined to 
shake themselves loose from the state of slavery. In 
the month of March A.D. 1424. an assembly of deputies, 
elected by the peasantry took place here. They were 
met by such of the nobles as were not unfriendly to 
their cause, among whom was the Abbot of Dissentis. 
They are described as a venerable company of old 
grey-headed men, with flowing beards, sitting under 
the shade of a noble sycamore ; and here they pledged 
themselves in unity, and by their common faith, to 
establish and preserve for their children, the free 
constitution upon which they then determined. This 
was the commencement of the celebrated Grey League, 
in which seventeen Romane and two German juris- 
dictions still participate. It was the custom, up to 
the close of the year 1778, to renew it by a solemn 
assembly every ten years, in a meadow a little to the 
east of Trons, under and about the identical sycamore 
which had sheltered the confederates. And there it 
still stands with its venerably distorted and cloven 
trunk, and green leaves, close by the pretty chapel 
dedicated to St. Anne, built in memory of the event. 
In the year we have above mentioned the assembly 
was removed to Ilanz, and I believe is still held there. 
But there are many yet living who recollect the bands 
of venerable deputies descending from all parts of the 
mountains, clothed in the grey cloth of the country, 
each bearing his huge partizan or mace on his shoulder, 

Z 2 



340 DISSENTIS. 

and his little wallet of provisions for the day. The 
other inhabitants of the country, encouraged by this 
example, formed at later periods the two leagues of 
Cadet and the Seven Jurisdictions, which, together 
with the Grey League or Maison Dieu, comprise the 
whole of the Grisons. 

Quitting Trons, the high steeple of Sumvix became 
my landmark, till, passing it, I soon descried the impo- 
sing church and monastery of Dissentis in the distance ; 
and by the simple and natural movement of placing one 
foot before another, I contrived to reach the village of 
that name early in the afternoon. On the way thither 
there was little of an interesting nature to detain me. 

The Benedictine abbey of Dissentis is by far the most 
ancient and celebrated in the Ithetian alps. It was 
founded at the commencement of the seventh century 
by Sigebert, a monkish emigrant from North Britain, 
a fellow student of Saint Gall. He was the first to 
bring the knowledge of Christianity into these vallies. 
His successors, many of whom had more of the soldier 
than the abbot about them, became very powerful, and 
were often engaged in war with their neighbours, 
either as principals or as auxiliaries to the Dukes of 
Austria. Among other instances we may call to mind 
the unsuccessful display of their sacred banner against 
the Swiss Confederates at the Battle of Morgarten, 
where they lost many of their retainers. 

Within a century after this event, however, we find 
the abbot of Dissentis among the most forward in the 
cause of liberty, as Peter von Pontaningen was one of 
the principal promoters and protectors of the Grey 
League of which we have just spoken ; and his sue- 



DISSENTIS. 341 

cessors remained from that time till the commence- 
ment of the fpresent . century, the most influential 
members of the same. In 1799 the French burnt the 
monastery and part of the village. On this occasion a 
library, collected during the course of nearly a thou- 
sand years, was destroyed. It l\as since been rebuilt, 
and forms a very large and spacious edifice, situated on 
the flank of the mountain, on the sun side of the valley. 
Very little time could be spent here, as I had nearly 
six leagues before me if I intended reaching Ander- 
matt, and I could discern that it was already snowing 
on the higher mountains. Leaving the opening into 
the Medelserthal to the left, I advanced over an un- 
dulating half-cultivated, but bleak tract of country, 
through the hamlets of Mompetavetsch, Sedrun and 
Ruaras, to the mouth of a small confined gorge through 
which the Rhine, now but a roaring mountain torrent 
fed by the snows, came rushing into the larger valley. 
A moment's pause and glance to the east, gave me a 
view of the valley I had ascended, retiring in long 
perspective, with Dissentis, Sumvix and other villages 
in the distance. The reader need not be surprised 
at a sudden feeling of neglected appetite which 
came across me at the sight of a number of little 
flat-sided, red pigs, that I met with in this portion 
of my progress, routing among the scattered herbage, 
and looking quite crisp and tasty even in their uncooked 
state. The truth is I was rather hungry, and knew I 
should be more so. Hunger is hunger, and though 
I was never pushed to the extremity of eating a 
boiled hat or a fricaseed shoe or boot, I have just 
sufficient experience to be certain that I could do 



342 SELVA. 

either or both upon certain occasions : nay, I believe 
that there are few things which extreme famine 
will not render desirable, whether it render them 
digestible or not. But it is time we move forward, 
for, though the sun is shining merrily this moment, 
there is a fearfully black snow-storm in the eye of the 
wind, and the latter sings too ominously in the twisted 
branches of the larch, not be heeded. 

A quarter of an hour's passage through a narrow 
ravine, ushered me into a small and sequestered valley, 
lying embedded at the foot of the mountains, and apart 
from all the world. In this lay the little hamlet of Selva, 
at the foot of the passage of the so-called Ober-Alp. 

After five minutes' halt at the door of the catholic 
priest, during which time I discussed a morsel of bread 
and a flask of wine, I set forward with renewed strength 
to the last and most arduous stage of my days' journey. 
I had not cleared the first acclivity and begun to turn 
my steps upon the higher and more broken portion of 
the ridge, when the bewilderment in which I was every 
now and then involved from the utter absence of a 
regular track, and the innumerable furrows worn on 
everv side by a large herd of cattle occupying this 
portion of the mountain, was greatly increased by the 
snow storm. I had long been anxiously watching it, 
as it gathered and spread to the windward ; and it 
now burst upon these mountains with uncommon 
violence for the season. The yellow beams of the 
sinking sun, which till then, had at intervals lighted up 
portions of the landscape, were now utterly quenched 
in a thick grey and cheerless atmosphere, through 
which a biting and furious wind drove the sleet and 



PASS OF THE OBER-ALP. 343 

snow over the surface of the mountains full in my face. 
Nevertheless I toiled forward, following the track which 
best agreed with my idea of the route, and in about 
half-an-hour's time from the commencement of the 
tempest found myself upon the highest ridge, and on 
the brink of the descent leading to the westward. At 
the same time the air began to clear, and by the time 
that I had descended through the soaked and spungy 
soil, to the brink of the little mountain lake that lies 
cradled in the hollow immediately below it, the wind 
and snow had both spent their force, and the tranquil 
and glassy surface of this mountain mirror was bright- 
ening with the golden hue of closing day. A disagree- 
able moment of doubt as to which side of the lake I 
should take in continuing my descent, and an awkward 
plunge to the depth of two or three feet in a mossy 
pool, ended by my providentially making choice of the 
safe side, and striking into the right track. I had no 
time to lose, and flew over the rugged and stony surface 
of the mountain with such earnestness and good will, 
that ere an hour had gone by, and the twilight had ceased 
to give timely light, I had reached the cultivated portion 
of the descent, and with the last gleam saw the alpine 
vale of Urseren lying at my feet. A wary descent 
over the pastures on the right of the torrent flowing 
from the Ober-Alp, which in the latter part of its 
course, forms a rapid of singular appearance, if I may 
judge from my twilight views, brought me finally 
to good and comfortable quarters in the great inn 
at Andermatt. It was with a feeling of no small 
exultation and thankfulness that I closed this day's 
journey. 



344 AN DERM ATT. 

Now that I had reached civilized Switzerland, and 
fallen into the general track of tourists, I really began 
to be half-ashamed of my time-worn and travel- stained 
equipment. A man is placed in a sad dilemma, when he 
begins to lose self-respect, be the cause what it may ; 
and though of a sufficiently independent disposition, I 
must say I never felt half so much tempted to keep out 
of the way of well-dressed, and well-appointed travel- 
lers. But I came from countries where a man wearing 
white gloves, a starched cravat, and a quizzing glass, 
would be taken for a wild beast. A bright morning 
succeeded to the stormy evening. My primary idea 
had been to cross the Furca and Grimsel, and so to pro- 
ceed to Meyringen : but having recollected that the 
line of Meyenthal and the Susten Pass would offer 
me a shorter cut, and perhaps enable me to reach 
the Oberhasli-thal this day, as well as give me the 
advantage of seeing the only one of the passes over 
the Berne Alps I had not visited ; I now changed my 
plan and descended the Schbllenen to Wasen. Another 
advantage resulting from this step was the opportunity 
thus offered me, of seeing the new road over this 
portion of the pass to the Gotthard, constructed since 
my last visit in these parts. 

Though I found the road open, many workmen 
were still employed upon it. The new bridge, built 
over the celebrated Devil's Bridge, is a bold and 
solid arch spanning the rocks at a much greater 
height, and makes the older one which is left stand- 
ing, look quite diminutive. I had not descended much 
further when I found an unlooked-for impediment to 
my progress. An immense block of gneiss had 



GOSCHENEN. 345 

descended from the mountain above, some days be- 
fore, sweeping away the entire breadth of the route 
beneath, together with the two last of a string of mules 
that happened to be passing, and falling with a thunder- 
ing echo into the bed of the Reuss. Many workmen were 
engaged in repairing the damage, and I had little diffi- 
culty in scrambling among the broken rock above, to 
pass the yawning hollow. 

At Gbschenen the old road commences. Twenty 
minutes' walk lower down I reached Wasen, and turn- 
ing to the left without halting, climbed up the mountain 
side to the opening into the Meyenthal. This forms a 
narrow and irregular ravine between two inferior ridges 
of the Alps, and has no particular features worthy of 
note. At the little chapelry beyond the village of 
Meyen, which I reached after about an hour's walk, I 
took my morning's refreshment with the Catholic priest, a 
talkative, bustling, round little man : and then continued 
my road towards the Susten, at the head of the vale. 
The route over this mountain, some years ago, had claims 
to be called a carriage-road ; but it has been so much 
neglected, or rather demanded such continual repair, 
that of late it has lost its pretensions to that distinction. 
In summer no difficulty can attend the passage in good 
weather ; but in winter, there are circumstances which 
render it extremely dangerous, particularly -its being 
greatly exposed to avalanches on the side towards the 
canton of Uri. The main zig-zag ascent commences 
about an hour's walk from the chapelry, at the further 
limit of a small level plain lying at the foot of the snow- 
mountains. The passage of the higher portions I 
found to be sufficiently embarrasing, from the heavy 



346 PASS OF THE SUSTEN. 

snow-drifts accumulated on the route during the prece- 
ding days' bad weather. 

On the summit which forms a ridge of an elevation 
of about 6000 feet, stretching between the Titlis and 
the Sustenhorn, I found the wind blowing strongly, 
and all the rocks encrusted with magnificent ice 
chrystals of about two inches in length. My descent 
towards the Gadmenthal was rapid. The upper road, as 
far as the edge of the glacier descending from the Susten- 
horn, is conducted over the rocky and bare acclivity of 
mountain ; and the second, mostly in fine forests, 
whose openings are covered with a variety of plants 
of great beauty. But I must not move past the above- 
mentioned glacier without detaining my reader a 
little. The gradual advance and spread of this phe- 
nomenon has now quite broken up the regular route, 
over which it is on the point of stepping. The manner 
of the glacier's advance has often struck me as singular. 
The portions in motion are evidently not the upper 
layers, as might be at first sight supposed — but the 
lower strata of ice and snow, resting on the rock ; and 
the consequence is, that the rock, wood, and earth in 
its way, are not overwhelmed but subversed. The 
common expression among the country-people — that 
the glacier ' moves with its snout in the earth/ is 
sufficiently just and descriptive. The mountains sur- 
rounding the Gadmenthal are among the most singular 
in this portion of Switzerland. Those on the left 
form granite ridges, and the upper portion of the vale 
is strewed with immense blocks, which have descended 
from them. Those on the right, lime-stone, rising like 
a broken wall of immense rocks, and soaring to the very 



THE GADMENTHAL. 347 

clouds, are nearly as bare as the dolomite ranges of 
Tyrol, and in many respects recalled them to my memory. 
A very fine staub-lauine, or snow-avalanche, poured 
over a portion of them, as I passed down in front, 
In the vicinity of the village of Gadmen are two or 
three strikingly beautiful groves of mountain sycamore. 

The descent from hence to the valley of Grund and 
the Aar is broken, by steep acclivities, into three 
separate vallies — the Gadmenthal, Nesselthal, and 
Muhlithal. The latter deserves to rank among the 
most beautiful of its class. The extreme inequality 
of the ground adds to its beauty, and to the exquisite 
foreground of intermingling trees and cottages : no- 
thing can present a more noble background than the 
dark mass of towering mountains which surround 
the deep vale of Grund, lying at the foot of the 
descent. With the last beams of the setting sun, 
streaming among the scattered oaks, and over the wide 
vale of Oberhasli beyond, I quickly traversed Mount 
Kirchet, and descended to Meyringen. I have wan- 
dered far, it is true, but I have seen nothing more 
enchantingly beautiful than these portions of Switzer- 
land : — and my admiration was not weakened, by my 
return during the course of the following day, through 
some of the most glorious scenes of the Berne Ober- 
land, to the threshold of that quiet home among the 
mountains, whence I had set out. 

To-morrow is a day of rest. 



PRINTED BY L. B. SEELEY AND SONS, 
THAMES DITTON, SURREY. 



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